THE  STORY   OF  TONTY 


THE  -STORY  OF  TONTY- 


BY 


MARY   HARTWELL  CATHERWOOD 


CHICAGO 

A.   C.   McCLURG   AND   COMPANY 
1890 


COPYRIGHT, 
BY  A.  C.  MCCLURG  AND  Co. 

A.D.     1889. 


C  O  N  T  E  N  T  S. 


PAGE 

7 

INTRODUCTION  .                    

Booft  I. 

A    MONTREAL   BEAVER    FAIR. 

i. 

n 

FRONTENAC     

ii. 

HAND-OF-IRON    .     . 

20 

in. 

28 

FATHER  HENNEPIN      .... 

T  -T   T 

39 

IV. 
V. 

A  COUNCIL     

.       48 

VI. 

THE  PROPHECY  OF  JOLYCCEUJ^^^^  • 

•       57 

Book  II. 

FORT    FRONTENAC. 

I. 

RIVAL  MASTERS      

.       7i 

II. 

A  TRAVELLED  FRIAR       

81 

T  TT 

.       87 

111. 

IV. 

A  CANOE  FROM  THE  ILLINOIS       .     .     • 

V. 

FATHER  HENNEPIN'S  CHAPEL  .... 

.     109 

VI. 

LA  SALLE  AND  TONTY     

.     118 

495786 


vi  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

VII.  AN  ADOPTION 128 

VIII.  TEGAHKOUITA 136 

IX.  AN  ORDEAL 146 

X.  HEMLOCK 155 


III. 

FORT   ST.    LOUIS    OF   THE    ILLINOIS. 

I.     IN  AN  EAGLE'S  NEST 167 

II.     THE  FRIEND  AND  BROTHER 176 

III.  HALF-SILENCE 188 

IV.  A  FETE  ON  THE  ROCK 200 

V.     THE  UNDESPAIRING  NORMAN 210 

VI.     TO-DAY 224 


INTRODUCTION. 


NO   man  can  see  all  of  a  mountain  at  once. 
He  sees   its  differing   sides.     Moreover,  it 
has  rainy  and   bright  day  aspects,  and   summer 
and  winter  faces. 


The  romancer  is  covered  with  the  dust  of 
old  books,  modern  books,  great  books,  and  out 
of  them  all  brings  in  a  condensing  hand  these 
pictures  of  two  men  whose  lives  were  as  large 
as  this  continent. 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

La  Salle  is  a  definite  figure  in  the  popular 
mind.  But  La  Salle's  greater  friend  is  known 
only  to  historians  and  students.  To  me  the 
finest  fact  in  the  Norman  explorer's  career  is 
the  devotion  he  commanded  in  Henri  de  Tonty. 
No  stupid  dreamer,  no  ruffian  at  heart,  no  be 
trayer  of  friendship,  no  mere  blundering  woods 
man  —  as  La  Salle  has  been  outlined  by  his 
enemies  —  could  have  bound  to  himself  a  man 
like  Tonty.  The  love  of  this  friend  and  the 
words  this  friend  has  left  on  record  thus  honor 
La  Salle.  And  we  who  like  courage  and  stead 
fastness  and  gentle  courtesy  in  men  owe  much 
honoc  which  has  never  been  paid  to  Henri  de 
Tonty. 


A   MONTREAL   BEAVER   FAIR. 

1678    A.  D. 


THE   STORY  OF   TONTY. 


I. 

FRONTENAC. 

ALONG    the    entire    river    front   of  Montreal 
camp-fires   faded    as   the  amphitheatre    of 
night  gradually  dissolved  around  them. 

Canoes  lay  beached  in  one  long  row  as  if  a 
shoal  of  huge  fish  had  come  to  land.  The 
lodges  made  a  new  street  along  Montreal  wharf. 
Oblong  figures  of  Indian  women  moved  from 
shadow  to  shine,  and  children  stole  out  to 
caper  beside  kettles  where  they  could  see  their 
breakfasts  steaming.  Here  and  there  light  fell 
upon  a  tranquil  mummy  less  than  a  metre  in 
length,  standing  propped  against  a  lodge  side, 
and  blinking  stoical  eyes  in  its  brown  flat  face  as 
only  a  bark-encased  Indian  baby  could  blink; 
or  it  slept  undisturbed  by  the  noise  of  the 
awakening  camp,  looking  a  mummy  indeed. 


12 


THE  STOXY  OF  TOA'TY. 


The  savage  of  the  New  World  carried  his 
family  with  him  on  every  peaceable  journey; 
sometimes  to  starve  for  weeks  when  the  winter 
hunting  proved  bad.  It  was  only  when  he 
went  to  war  that  he  denied  himself  all  squaw 
service. 

The  annual  beaver  fair  was  usually  held  in 
midsummer,  but  this  year  the  tribes  of  the 
upper  lakes  had  not  descended  with  their  furs 
to  Montreal  until  September.  These  precious 
skins,  taken  out  of  the  canoes,  were  stored 
within  the  lodges. 

Every  male  of  the  camp  was  already  greas 
ing,  painting,  and  feathering  himself  for  the  grand 
council,  which  always  preceded  a  beaver  fair. 
Hurons,  Ottawas,  Crees,  Nipissings,  Ojibwas, 
Pottawatamies,  each  jealous  for  his  tribe,  com 
pleted  a  process  begun  the  night  before,  and 
put  on  what  might  be  called  his  court  dress. 
In  some  cases  this  was  no  dress  at  all,  ex 
cept  a  suit  of  tattooing,  or  a  fine  coat  of  ochre 
streaked  with  white  clay  or  soot.  The  juice  of 
berries  heightened  nature  in  their  faces.  But 
there  were  grand  barbarians  who  laid  out  robes 
of  beaver  skin,  ample,  and  marked  inside  with 
strange  figures  or  porcupine  quill  embroidery. 


FRONTENAC.  1 3 

The  heads  swarming  in  this  vast  and  dusky 
dressing-room  were  some  of  them  shaven  bare 
except  the  scalp  lock,  some  bristling  in  a 
ridge  across  the  top,  while  others  carried  the 
natural  coarse  growth  tightly  braided  down 
one  side,  with  the  opposite  half  flowing  loose. 

Montreal  behind  its  palisades  made  a  dim 
background  to  all  this  early  illumination,  —  few 
domestic  candles  shining  through  windows  or 
glancing  about  the  Hotel  Dieu  as  the  nuns 
began  their  morning  devotions.  Mount  Royal 
now  flickered  a  high  shadow,  and  now  massed 
inertly  against  stars;  but  the  river,  breathing 
forever  like  some  colossal  creature,  reflected  all 
the  camp-fires  in  its  moving  scales. 

The  guns  of  the  fort  had  fired  a  salute  to 
Indian  guests  on  their  arrival  the  evening  be 
fore.  But  at  sunrise  repeated  cannonading,  a 
prolonged  roll  of  drums,  and  rounds  of  mus 
ketry  announced  that  the  governor-general's 
fleet  was  in  sight. 

Montreal  flocked  to  the  wharf  where  already 
the  savages  were  arrayed  in  solemn  ranks. 
Marching  out  of  the  fortress  with  martial  mu 
sic,  past  the  Hotel  Dieu  to  the  landing-place 
where  Frontenac  must  step  from  his  boat,  came 


14  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

the  remnant  of  the  Carignan  regiment  Even 
the  Sulpitian  brotherhood,  whose  rights  as  seign 
iors  of  Montreal  island  this  governor  had  at 
one  time  slighted,  appeared  to  do  him  honor. 
And  gentle  nuns  of  St.  Joseph  were  seen  in 
the  general  outpour  of  inhabitants. 

This  governor-general,  with  all  his  faults, 
had  a  large  and  manly  way  of  meeting  colo 
nial  dangers,  and  was  always  a  prop  under  the 
fainting  heart  of  New  France. 

His  boats  made  that  display  upon  the  St. 
Lawrence  which  it  was  his  policy  and  inclina 
tion  to  make  before  Indians.  Officers  in  white 
a*nd  gold,  and  young  nobles  of  France,  pow 
dered,  and  flashing  in  the  colors  of  Louis' 
magnificent  reign,  crowded  his  own  vessel, — 
young  men  who  had  ventured  out  to  Quebec 
because  it  was  the  fashion  at  court  to  be 
skilled  in  colonial  matters,  and  now  followed 
Frontenac  as  far  as  Montreal  to  amuse  them 
selves  with  the  annual  beaver  fair.  The  flag  of 
France,  set  with  its  lily-like  symbol,  waved  over 
their  heads  its  white  reply  to  its  twin  signal  on 
the  fort. 

Frontenac  stood  at  the  boat's  prow,  his  rich 
cloak   thrown   back,   and   his  head  bared  to  the 


FRONTENAC.  15 

morning  river  breath  and  the  people's  shouts. 
Being  colonial  king  pleased  this  soldier,  tired  of 
European  camps  and  the  full  blaze  of  royalty, 
where  his  poverty  put  him  to  the  disadvantage 
of  a  singed  moth. 

He  came  blandly  gliding  to  the  wharf,  Louis 
de  Buade,  Count  of  Frontenac,  and  Baron  of 
Palluau,  and  the  only  governor  of  New  France 
who  ever  handled  the  arrogant  Five  Nations  of 
the  Iroquois  like  a  strong  father,1  -  -  a  man 
who  would  champion  the  rights  of  his  meanest 
colonist,  and  at  the  same  time  quarrel  with  his 
lieutenant  in  power  to  his  last  breath. 

Merchants  of  Quebec  followed  him  with 
boat-loads  of  Indian  supplies.  Even  Acadia 
had  sent  men  to  this  voyage,  for  the  Baron 
de  Saint-Castin  appeared  in  the  fleet,  with 
his  young  Indian  Baroness.  It  is  told  of 
Saint-Castin  that  he  had  kept  a  harem  in  his 
sylvan  principality  of  Pentegoet;  but  being  a 
man  of  conscience,  he  confessed  and  reformed. 
It  is  also  told  of  him  that  he  never  kept  a 
harem  or  otherwise  lapsed  into  the  barba- 

1  Frontenac  was  the  only  man  the  Iroquois  would  ever  allow 
to  call  himself  their  father.  All  other  governors,  English  or 
French,  were  simply  brothers. 


1 6  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

risms  of  the  Penobscots,  among  whom  he  car 
ried  missionaries  and  over  whom  he  was  a 
great  lord.  Type  of  the  Frenchman  of  his 
day,  he  came  to  New  France  a  lad  in  the  Carig- 
nan  regiment,  amassed  fortunes  in  the  fur  trade, 
and  holding  his  own  important  place  in  the 
colony,  goaded  like  a  thorn  the  rival  colony 
of  New  England  along  his  borders. 

But  most  conspicuous  to  the  eyes  of  Montreal 
were  two  men  standing  at  Frontenac's  right  hand, 
a  Norman  and  an  Italian.  Both  were  tall,  the 
Italian  being  of  deeper  colors  and  more  gener 
ous  materials.  His  large  features  were  clothed 
in  warm  brown  skin.  Rings  of  black  hair  thick 
as  a  fleece  were  cut  short  above  his  military 
collar.  His  fearless,  kindly  eyes  received  im 
pressions  from  every  aspect  of  the  New  World. 
There  dwelt  in  Henri  de  Tonty  the  power  to 
make  men  love  him  at  sight,  —  savages  as  well 
as  Europeans.  He  wore  the  dress  of  a  French 
lieutenant  of  infantry,  and  looked  less  than 
thirty  years  old,  having  entered  the  service 
of  France  in  his  early  youth. 

The  other  man,  Robert  Cavelier,  —  called 
La  Salle  from  an  estate  he  had  once  owned  in 
France,  —  explorer,  and  seignior  of  Fort  Fron- 


FRONTENAC.  \J 

tenac  and  adjacent  grants  on  the  north  shore 
of  Lake  Ontario,  was  at  that  time  in  the  prime 
of  his  power.  He  was  returning  from  France, 
with  the  king's  permission  to  work  out  all  his 
gigantic  enterprises,  with  funds  for  the  purpose, 
and  one  of  the  most  promising  young  military 
men  in  Europe  as  his  lieutenant. 

Montreal  merchants  on  the  wharf  singled  out 
La  Salle  with  jealous  eye,  which  saw  in  the 
drooping  point  and  flaring  base  of  his  nose  an 
endless  smile  of  scorn.  He  was  a  man  who 
had  only  to  use  his  monopolies  to  become  enor 
mously  rich,  cutting  off  the  trade  of  the  lakes 
from  Montreal.  That  he  was  above  gain,  ex 
cept  as  he  could  use  it  for  hewing  his  ambi 
tious  road  into  the  wilderness,  they  did  not 
believe.  The  merchants  of  Montreal  readily 
translated  the  shyness  and  self-restraint  of  his 
solitary  nature  into  the  arrogance  of  a  recently 
ennobled  and  successful  man. 

La  Salle  had  a  spare  face,  with  long  oval 
cheeks,  curving  well  inward  beside  the  round  of 
his  sensitive  prominent  chin.  Gray  and  olive 
tones  still  further  cooled  the  natural  pallor  of 
his  skin  and  made  ashen  brown  the  hair  which 
he  wore  flowing. 


1 8  THE   STORY  OF   TONTY. 

The  plainness  of  an  explorer  and  the  elegance 
of  a  man  exact  in  all  his  habits  distinguished 
La  Salle's  dress  against  that  background  of 
brilliant  courtiers. 

He  moved  ashore  with  Frontenac,  who  saluted 
benignly  both  the  array  of  red  allies  and  the 
inhabitants  of  this  second  town  in  the  province. 

The  sub-governor  stepped  out  to  escort  the 
governor-general  to  the  fort,  bells  rang,  cannon 
still  boomed,  martial  music  pierced  the  heart 
with  its  thrill,  and  the  Carignan  squad  wheeled 
in  behind  Frontenac's  moving  train. 

"  Sieur  de  la  Salle  !  Sieur  de  la  Salle  !  "  a  little 
girl  called,  breaking  away  from  the  Sisters  of 
St.  Joseph,  whose  convent  robes  had  enclosed 
her  like  palisades,  "  take  me  also  in  the  pro 
cession  !  " 

This  demand  granted  itself,  so  nimbly  did  she 
escape  a  nun's  ineffectual  grasp  and  spring  be 
tween  Tonty  and  La  Salle. 

Frontenac  himself  had  turned  at  the  shrill 
outcry.  He  laughed  when  he  saw  the  wilful 
young  creature  taking  the  explorer  by  the  wrist 
and  falling  into  step  so  close  to  his  own  person. 

A  pursuing  nun,  unwilling  to  interrupt  the 
governor's  train,  hovered  along  its  progress, 


FRONTENAC.  19 

making  anxious  signs  to  her  charge,  until  she 
received  an  assuring  gesture  from  La  Salle. 
She  then  went  back  dissatisfied  but  relieved  of 
responsibility;  and  the  child,  with  a  proud  fling 
of  her  person,  marched  on  toward  the  fort. 


II. 

HAND-OF-IRON. 

"  MADEMOISELLE  the  tiger-cat,"  said 
La  Salle  to  Tonty,  making  himself 
heard  with  some  effort  above  the  din  of  martial 
sound. 

The  young  soldier  lifted  his  hat  with  his  left 
hand  and  made  the  child  a  bow,  which  she 
regarded  with  critical  eyes. 

"  I  am  the  niece  of  Monsieur  de  la  Salle," 
she  explained  to  Tonty  as  she  marched  ;  "  so  he 
calls  me  tiger-cat." 

"  Mademoiselle  Barbe  Cavelier  is  the  tiger- 
cat's  human  name,"  the  explorer  added,  laugh 
ing.  "  It  is  flattering  to  have  this  nimble  animal 
spring  affectionately  on  one  from  ambush;  but 
I  should  soon  have  inquired  after  you  at  the 
convent,  mademoiselle." 

"  I  did  not  spring  affectionately  on  you,"  said 
Barbe ;  "  I  wanted  to  be  in  the  procession." 


HA  ND-  OF-IR  ON.  2  I 

"  Hast  thou  then  lost  all  regard  for  thy  uncle 
La  Salle  during  his  year  of  absence?" 

Barbe's  high  childish  voice  distinctly  and  sin 
cerely  stated,  "  No,  monsieur ;  I  have  fought  all 
the  girls  at  the  convent  on  your  account.  Jeanne 
le  Ber  said  nothing  against  you ;  but  she  is  a 
Le  Ber.  I  am  glad  you  came  back  in  such 
grandeur.  I  was  determined  to  be  in  the  gran 
deur  myself.  But  it  is  not  a  time  to  give  you 
my  cheek  for  a  kiss." 

La  Salle  smiled  over  her  head  at  Tonty.  The 
Italian  noted  her  marked  resemblance  to  the 
explorer.  She  had  the  same  features  in  deli 
cate  tints,  the  darkness  of  her  eyelashes  and 
curls  only  emphasizing  the  type.  Already  her 
small  nose  drooped  at  the  point  and  flared  at 
the  base.  As  La  Salle  and  his  young  kins 
woman  stepped  together,  Tonty  gauged  them 
alike,  —  two  self-restraining  natures  with  un 
measured  endurance  and  individual  force  like 
the  electric  current. 

Montreal's  square  bastioned  fort,  by  the 
mouth  of  a  small  creek  flowing  into  the  St. 
Lawrence,  was  soon  reached  from  the  wharf. 
It  stood  at  the  south  end  of  the  town. 

"  My  dear   child,"  said    La   Salle,    stating   his 


THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

case  to  Barbe,  "it  is  necessary  for  me  to  go 
into  the  fort  with  Count  Frontenac,  and  equally 
necessary  you  should  go  back  at  once  to  the 
Sisters.  I  will  bring  you  out  of  the  convent 
to-morrow  to  look  at  the  beaver  fair.  This  is 
Monsieur  de  Tonty,  my  lieutenant;  let  him  take 
you  back  to  the  nuns.  I  shall  be  blamed  if  ! 
carry  you  into  the  fort." 

Barbe  heard  him  without  raising  objections. 
She  looked  at  Tonty,  who  gave  her  his  left  hand 
and  drew  her  out  of  the  train. 

It  swept  past  them  into  the  fortress  gates,  — 
gallant  music,  faces  returning  her  eager  gaze 
with  smiles,  plumes,  powdered  curls,  and  laces, 
gold  and  white  uniforms,  soldiers  with  the  sun 
flashing  from  their  gun-barrels. 

Barbe  watched  the  last  man  in.  To  express 
her  satisfaction  she  then  rose  to  the  tip  of  one 
foot  and  hopped  three  steps.  She  was  lightly 
and  delicately  made,  and  as  full  of  restless  grace 
as  a  bird.  Her  face  and  curls  bloomed  above 
and  strongly  contrasted  with  the  raiment  her 
convent  guardians  planned  for  a  child  dependent, 
not  on  their  chanty,  but  on  their  maternal  care. 

The  September  morning  enveloped  the  world 
in  a  haze  of  brightness,  like  that  perfecting  blue 


HAND-OF-IRON.  .  23 

breath  which  we  call  the  bloom  upon  the  grape. 
A  great  landscape  with  a  scarf  of  melting  azure 
resting  around  its  horizon,  or  ravelling  to  shreds 
against  the  mountain's  breast,  or  pretending  to 
be  wood-smoke  across  the  river,  drew  Tonty's 
eye  from  the  disappearing  pageant. 

That  fair  land  was  a  fit  spot  whereon  the 
most  luxurious  of  civilizations  should  touch  and 
affiliate  with  savages  of  the  wilderness.  Up  the 
limpid  green  river  the  Lachine  Rapids  showed 
their  teeth  with  audible  roar.  From  that  point 
Mount  Royal  could  be  seen  rising  out  of  mists 
and  stretching  its  hind-quarters  westward  like 
some  vast  mastodon.  But  to  Tonty  only  its 
front  appeared,  a  globe  dipped  in  autumn  colors 
and  wearing  plumes  of  vapor.  The  sky  of  this 
new  hemisphere  rose  in  unmeasured  heights 
which  the  eye  followed  in  vain ;  there  seemed 
no  zenith  to  the  swimming  blinding  azure. 

A  row  of  booths  for  merchants  had  been  built 
all  along  the  outside  of  Montreal's  palisades,  and 
traders  were  thus  early  setting  their  goods  in 
array. 

At  the  north  extremity  of  the  town  that  huge 
stone  windmill  built  by  the  seigniors  for  defence, 
cast  a  long  dewy  shadow  toward  the  west.  Its 


24  THE  STORY  OF   TON  TV. 

loopholes  showed  like  dark  specks  on  the  body 
of  masonry. 

Sun-sparkles  on  the  river  were  no  more  buoy 
ant  and  changeable  than  the  child  at  Tonty's 
side.  Dimples  came  and  went  in  her  cheeks. 
Her  blood  was  stirred  by  the  swarming  life 
around  her. 

"  Monsieur,"  she  confided  to  her  uncle's  lieu 
tenant,  "  I  am  meditating  something  very 
wicked." 

"  Certainly  that  is  impossible,  mademoiselle," 
said  Tonty,  accommodating  his  step  to  her  reluc 
tant  gait. 

"  I  am  meditating  on  not  going  back  to  the 
convent." 

"  Where  would  you  go,  mademoiselle?  " 
"  Everywhere,  to  see  things." 
"  But  my  orders  are  to  escort  you  to  the  nuns. 
You  would  disgrace  me  as  a  soldier." 

Barbe  lifted  her  gaze  to  his  face  and  was 
diverted  from  rebellion.  Tonty  put  out  his 
arm  to  guard  her,  but  a  tall  stalking  brave  was 
pushed  against  her  in  passing  and  immediately 
startled  by  the  thud  of  her  prompt  fist  upon 
his  back.  The  Indian  turned,  unsheathing  his 
knife. 


HA  A  TD-  OF-IR  ON.  2  5 

"  Get  out  of  my  way,  thou  ugly  big  warrior," 
said  Barbe,  meeting  his  eye,  which  softened  from 
fierceness  to  laughter,  and  holding  her  fist  ready 
for  further  encounter. 

The  Indian  made  some  mocking  gestures  and 
menaced  her  playfully  with  his  thumb.  Tonty 


threw  his  arm  across  her  shoulder  and  moved 
her  on  toward  the  convent.  Barbe  escaped  from 
this  touch,  an  entirely  new  matter  filling  her 
mind. 

"  Monsieur,  even  old  Jonaneaux  in  our  Hotel 
Dieu  hath  not  such  a  heavy  hand  as  thou  hast. 
Many  a  time  hath  he  pulled  me  down  off  the 
palisade  when  I  looked  over  to  see  the  coureurs 


26  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

cle  bois  go  roaring  by.     But    thou   hast   a   hand 
like  iron  !  " 

Tonty  flushed,  being  not  yet  hardened  to  his 
misfortune. 

"  It  is  a  hand  of  iron.  I  am  called  Main-de 
fer."1 

Barbe  took  hold  of  it  in  its  glove.  Of  all  the 
people  she  had  ever  met  Tonty  was  the  only 
person  whose  touch  she  did  not  resent. 

"  The  other  hand  is  not  like  unto  it, 
monsieur?  " 

He  gave  her  the  other  also,  and  she  compared 
their  weight.  With  a  roguish  lifting  of  her  nos 
trils  she  inquired,— 

"  Will  every  bit  of  you  turn  to  metal  like  this 
heavy  hand?  " 

"Alas,  no,  mademoiselle;  there  is  no  hope  of 
that." 

Tonty  stripped  his  gauntlet  off.  With  half 
afraid  fingers  she  examined  the  artificial  mem 
ber.  It  was  of  copper. 

"  Where  is  the  old  one,  monsieur?  " 
"  It  was   blown   off  by  a   grenade   at  Messina 
last  year." 

"  Henri  cle  Tonty,  surnomme  Mnin-de-fer."  Notes  Sur 
Nouvelle  France. 


HA  ND-  OF-IR  ON.  27 

"  Does  it  hurt?  " 

"  Not  now.  Except  when  I  think  of  the  ser 
vice  of  Monsieur  de  la  Salle,  and  of  my  being 
thus  pieced  out  as  a  man." 

Barbe  measured  his  height  and  breadth  and 
warm-toned  face  with  satisfied  eyes.  She  con 
soled  him. 

"  There  is  so  much  of  you,  monsieur,  you  can 
easily  do  without  a  hand." 


III. 

FATHER   HENNEPIN. 

HHOU  art  a  comfort  to  a  soldier,  mademoi 
selle,"  said  Tonty,  heartily. 
"  But  not  to  a  priest,"  observed  Barbe.  "  For 
last  birthday  when  I  was  eleven  my  uncle  Abbe 
stuck  out  his  lip  and  said  I  was  eleven  years  bad. 
But  my  uncle  La  Salle  kissed  my  cheek.  There 
goeth  Francois  le  Moyne."  Her  face  became 
suddenly  distorted  with  grimaces  of  derision  be 
side  which  Tonty  could  scarcely  keep  his  gravity. 
A  boy  of  about  her  own  age  ran  past,  dropping 
her  a  sneer  for  her  pains. 

"  Monsieur,  these  Le  Moynes  and  Sorels  and 
Bouchers  and  Varennes  and  Joliets  and  Le  Bers, 
they  are  all  against  my  uncle  La  Salle.  The 
girls  talk  about  it  in  the  convent.  But  he  hath 
the  governor  on  his  side,  so  what  can  they  do  ? 
I  have  pinched  Jeanne  le  Ber  at  school,  but  she 
will  never  pinch  back  and  it  only  makes  her  feel 


FATHER  HENNEPIN.  29 

holier.     So  I  pinch  her  no  more.     Do  you  know 
Jeanne  le  Ber?" 

"  No,"  said  Tonty,  "  I  have  not  that  pleasure." 
"  Oh,  monsieur,  it  is  no  pleasure.  She  says  so 
many  prayers.  When  I  have  prayers  for  pen 
ances  they  make  me  so  tired  I  have  to  get  up 
and  hop  between  them.  But  Jeanne  le  Ber 
would  pray  all  the  time  if  her  father  did  not  pull 
her  off  her  knees.  My  father  and  mother  died 
in  France.  If  they  were  alive  they  would  not 
have  to  pull  me  off  my  knees." 

"  But  a  woman  should  learn  to  pray,  even  as  a 
man  should  learn  to  fight,"  observed  Tonty.  "  He 
stands  between  her  and  danger,  and  she  should 
stand  linking  him  to  heaven." 

"  I  can  fight  for  myself,"  said  Barbe.  "  And 
everybody  ought  to  say  his  own  prayers;  but  it 
makes  one  disagreeable  to  say  more  than  his 
share.  I  wish  to  grow  up  an  agreeable  person." 

They  had  reached  the  palisade  entrance  which 
fronted  the  river,  Barbe's  feet  still  lagging  amid 
the  lively  scenes  outside.  She  allowed  Tonty  to 
lead  her  with  his  left  hand,  thus  sheltering  her 
next  the  booths  from  streams  of  passing  Indians 
and  traders. 

Beside  this  open  gate  she  would  have  lingered 


30  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

indefinitely,  chattering  to  a  guardian  who  felt  her 
hatred  of  convent  restraint,  and  gazing  at  pre 
parations  for  the  council :  at  prunes  and  chopped 
pieces  of  oxen  being  put  to  boil  for  an  Indian 
feast;  at  the  governor's  chair  from  the  fortress, 
where  the  sub-governor  lived,  borne  by  men  to 
the  middle  of  that  space  yearly  occupied  as  the 
council  ring.  But  a  watchful  Sister  was  hoverino- 

o 

ready  inside  the  palisade  gate,  and  reaching  forth 
her  arm  she  drew  her  charge  away  from  Tonty, 
giving  him  brief  and  scandalized  thanks  for  his 
service. 

Barbe  looked  back.  It  was  worth  Tonty's 
while  to  catch  sight  of  that  regretful  face  smeared 
about  its  warm  neck  by  curls,  its  lips  parted 
to  repeat  and  still  repeat,  "  Adieu,  monsieur. 
Adieu,  monsieur." 

But  two  men  had  come  between  the  disappear 
ing  child  and  him,  one  man,  dressed  partly  like 
an  officer  and  partly  like  a  coureur  de  bois, 
throwing  both  arms  around  Tonty  in  the  eager 
Latin  manner. 

"  My  cousin  Henri  de  Tonty,  welcome  to  the 
New  World.  I  waited  with  my  gouty  leg  at  the 
fortress  for  you ;  but  when  you  came  not,  like  a 
good  woodsman,  I  tracked  you  down." 


FATHER   IIENXEPIX.  31 

"  My  cousin  Greysolon  du  Lhut !  Glad  am  I 
to  find  you  so  speedily.  This  cold  and  heavy 
hand  belies  me." 

"  I  heard  of  this  hand.  But  the  other  was  well 
lost,  my  cousin.  Take  courage  in  beholding  me  ; 
I  had  nearly  lost  a  leg,  and  not  by  good  powder 
and  shot  either,  but  with  gout  which  disgrace 
fully  loads  up  a  man  with  his  own  dead  members. 
But  the  Iroquois  virgin,  Catharine  Tegahkouita, 
hath  interceded  for  me." 

"  Monsieur  de  Tonty  will  observe  we  have 
saints  among  the  savages  in  New  France,"  said 

the  other  man. 

He  was    a  Recollet    friar  with  sandalled    feet, 

wearing  a  gray  capote  of  coarse  texture  which 

was   girt  with  the   cord   of   Saint    Francis.     His 

peaked  hood   hung  behind  his  shoulders   leaving 

his  shaven  crown  to  glisten  with  rosy  enjoyment 

of  the  sunlight.    A  crucifix  hung  at  his  side  ;   but 

no  man  ever  devoted  his  life  to  prayer  who  was 

so   manifestly   created  to   enjoy  the  world.     He 

had  a  nose  of  Flemish   amplitude   depressed   in 

the  centre,  fat  lips,  a  terraced  chin,  and  twinkling 

good-humored  eyes.     The  gray  capote  could  not 

conceal  a  pompous  swell  of  the  stomach  and  the 

strut  of  his  sandalled  feet. 


'  3 2  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

"  My  cousin  Tonty,"  said  Du  Lhut,  "  this  is 
Father  Louis  Hennepin  from  Fort  Frontenac. 
He  hath  come  down  to  Montreal1  to  meet  Mon 
sieur  de  la  Salle  and  engage  himself  in  the  new 
western  venture." 

[<  Venture  !  "  exclaimed  a  keen-visaged  man  in 
the  garb  of  a  merchant-colonist  who  was  carrying 
a  bale  of*  goods  to  one  of  the  booths,  —  for  no 
man  in  Montreal  was  ashamed  to  get  profit  out  of 
the  beaver  fair.  "  Where  your  Monsieur  de  la 
Salle  is  concerned  there  will  be  venture  enough, 
but  no  results  for  any  man  but  La  Salle." 

He  set  his  bale  down  as  if  it  were  a  challenge. 
Points  of  light  sprung  into  Tonty's  eyes  and 
the  blood  in  his  face  showed  its  quickening. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  spoke,  "  if  you  are  a  gentle 
man  you  shall  answer  to  me  for  slandering 
Monsieur  de  la  Salle." 

11  Jacques  le  Ber  is  a  noble  of  the  colony," 
declared  Du  Lhut,  with  the  derisive  freedom  this 
great  ranger  and  leader  of  coureurs  de  bois 
assumed  toward  any  one;  "  for  hath  he  not  pur 
chased  his  patent  of  King  Louis  for  six  thousand 
livres?  But  look  you,  my  cousin  Tonty,  if  the 

1  The  romancer  here  differs  from  the  historian,  who  says 
Father  Hennepin  met  La  Salle  at  Quebec. 


II 


FATHER  HENNEPIN.  35 

king  allowed  not  us  colonial  nobles  to  engage  in 
trade  he  would  lose  us  all  by  starvation ;  for 
scarce  a  miserable  censitaire  on  our  lands  can 
pay  us  his  capon  and  pint  of  wheat  at  the  end  of 
the  year." 

"  I  will  answer  to  you,  monsieur,"  said  Jacques 
le  Ber  to  the  soldier,  "  that  La  Salle  is  the 
enemy  of  the  colony,  and  the  betrayer  of  them 
that  have  been  his  friends." 

Father  Hennepin  and  Du  Lhut  caught  Tonty's 
arms.  Du  Lhut  then  dragged  him  with  expos 
tulations  inside  the  palisade  gate,  repeating  Fron- 
tenac's  strict  orders  that  all  quarrels  should  be 
suppressed  during  the  beaver  fair,  and  as  the 
young  man's  furious  looks  still  sought  the  mer 
chant,  reminding  him  of  the  harm  he  might 
do  La  Salle  by  an  open  quarrel  with  Montreal 
traders. 

"  I,  who  am  not  bound  to  La  Salle  as  close  as 
thou  art,  —  I  tell  you  it  will  not  do,"  declared 
Du  Lhut. 

"  Let  the  man  keep  his  distance,  then  !  " 

"  Why,  you  hot-blooded  fellow!  why  do  you 
take  these  Frenchmen  so  seriously?" 

"  Sieur  de  la  Salle  is  my  friend.  I  will  strike 
any  man  who  denounces  him." 


36  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

"  Oh,  come  out  toward  the  mountain.  Let  us 
make  a  little  pilgrimage,"  laughed  Du  Lhut. 
"  We  must  cool  thee,  Tonty,  we  must  cool 
thee ;  or  La  Sallc's  enemies  will  lie  in  one  heap 
the  length  of  Montreal,  mowed  by  this  iron 
hand  !  " 

As  Jacques  le  Ber  carried  forward  his  bale, 
Father  Hennepin  walked  beside  him  dealing 
forth  good-natured  remonstrance  with  fat  hands 
and  out-turned  lips. 

"  My  son,  God  save  me  from  the  man  who 
doth  nurse  a  grievance.  Your  case  is  simply 
this:  our  governor  built  a  fort  at  Cataraqui,  and 
it  is  now  called  Fort  Frontenac.  He  put  you 
and  associates  of  yours  in  charge,  and  you  had 
profit  of  that  fort.  Afterward,  by  his  recom 
mendation  to  the  king,  Sieur  de  la  Salle  was 
made  seignior  of  Fort  Frontenac  and  lands 
thereabout.  This  hast  thou  ever  since  bitterly 
chewed  to  the  poisoning  of  thy  immortal  soul." 

"  You  churchmen  all,  —  Jesuits,  Sulpitians,  or 
Recollets,  —  are  over  zealous  to  domineer  in 
this  colony,"  spoke  Jacques  le  Ber,  through  the 
effort  of  carrying  his  bale. 

"  My  son,"  said  Father  Hennepin,  swelling  his 
stomach  and  inflating  his  throat,  "  why  should 


FATHER  HENNEPIN.  37 

I  enter  the  mendicant  order  of  Saint  Francis  and 
live  according  to  the  rules  of  a  pure  and  severe 
virtue,  if  I  felt  no  zeal  for  saving  souls?" 

"  I  spoke  of  domineering,"  repeated  the  angry 
merchant. 

"  And  touching  Monsieur  de  la  Salle,"  said 
Father  Hennepin,  "  I  exhort  thee  not  to  love 
him ;  for  who  could  love  him,  —  but  to  rid  thy 
self  of  hatred  of  any  one." 

"  Father  Hennepin  has  not  then  attached  him 
self  to  La  Salle's  new  enterprise?" 

"  I  have  a  grand  plan  of  discovery  of  my 
own,"  said  the  friar,  deeply,  rolling  his  shaven 
head,  "  an  enterprise  which  would  terrify  any 
body  but  me.  The  Sieur  de  la  Salle  merely 
opens  my  path.  I  will  confess  to  thee,  my  son, 
that  in  youth  I  often  hid  myself  behind  the 
doors  of  taverns,  —  which  were  no  fit  haunts  for 
men  of  holy  life,  —  to  hearken  unto  sailors'  tales 
of  strange  lands.  And  thus  would  I  willingly 
do  without  eating  or  drinking,  such  burning  de 
sire  I  had  to  explore  new  countries." 

The  Father  did  not  observe  that  Jacques  le 
Ber  had  reached  his  own  booth  and  was  there 
arranging  his  goods  regardless  of  explorations 
in  strange  lands,  but  walked  on,  talking  to  the 


38  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

air,  his  out-thrust  lips  rounding  every  word,  until 
some  derisive  savage  pointed   out  this  solo. 

Jacques  le  Ber  made  ready  to  take  his  place 
in  the  governor's  council,  thinking  wrathfully  of 
his  encounter  with  Tonty.  He  dwelt,  as  we  all 
do,  upon  the  affronts  and  hindrances  of  the  pres 
ent,  rather  than  on  his  prospect  of  founding  a 
strong  and  worthy  family  in  the  colony. 


IV. 

A   COUNCIL. 

THE  North  American  savage,  with  an  unerr 
ing     instinct   which    republics    might    well 
study,  sent  his  wisest  men  to  the  front  to  repre 
sent  him. 

A  great  circle  of  Indians,  ranged  according 
to  their  tribes,  sat  around  Frontenac  when  the 
stone  windmill  trod  its  noon  shadow  underfoot. 
Te  Deum  had  been  sung  in  the  chapel,  and 
thanks  offered  for  his  safe  arrival.  The  princi 
pal  men  of  Montreal,  with  the  governor's  white 
and  gold  officers,  sat  now  within  the  circle  be 
hind  his  chair. 

But  Frontenac  faced  every  individual  of  his 
Indian  children,  moving  before  them,  their  natu 
ral  leader,  as  he  made  his  address  of  greeting, 
admonition,  and  approval,  through  Du  Lhut  as 
interpreter.  The  old  courtier  loved  Indians. 
They  appealed  to  that  same  element  in  him 
which  the  coureurs  de  bois  knew  how  to  reach. 


40  THE  STORY  OF   TON  TV. 

The  Frenchman  has  a  wild  strain  of  blood.  He 
takes  kindly  and  easily  to  the  woods.  He  makes 
himself  an  appropriate  and  even  graceful  figure 
against  any  wilderness  background,  and  goes 
straight  to  Nature's  heart,  carrying  all  the  refine 
ments  of  civilization  with  him. 

The  smoke  of  the  peace  pipe  went  up  hour 
after  hour.  By  strictest  rules  of  precedence 
each  red  orator  rose  in  his  turn  and  spoke  his 
tribe's  reply  to  Onontio.1  An  Indian  never  hur 
ried  eloquence.  The  sun  might  tip  toward 
Mount  Royal,  and  the  steam  of  his  own  deferred 
feast  reach  his  nose  in  delicious  suggestion.  He 
had  to  raise  the  breeze  of  prosperity,  to  clear 
the  sun,  to  wipe  away  tears  for  friends  slain  dur 
ing  past  misunderstandings  with  Onontio's  other 
children,  and  to  open  the  path  of  peace  between 
their  lodges  and  the  lodges  of  his  tribe.  Ottawa, 
Huron,  Cree,  Nipissing,  Ojibwa,  or  Pottawatamie, 
it  was  necessary  for  him  to  bury  the  hatchet  in 
pantomime,  to  build  a  great  council-fire  whose 

"This  name  was  in  Huron  and  Iroquois  the  translation  of 
the  name  of  M.  de  Montmagny  (Mons  maguns,  great  mountain), 
The  savages  continued  calling  the  successors  of  Governor  Mont 
magny  by  the  same  name,  and  even  to  the  French  king  they 
applied  the  title  '  Great  Ononthio.'  "  Translated  from  note  on 
page  138,  tome  i,  Garneau's  Histoire  du  Canada. 


A    COUNCIL.  43 

smoke  should  rise  to  heaven  in  view  of  all  the 
nations,  and  gather  the  tribes  of  the  lakes  in  one 
family  council  with  the  French  around  this  fire 
forever. 

Children  played  along  the  river's  brink,  and 
squaws  kept  fire  under  the  kettles.  A  few  men 
guarded  the  booths  along  the  palisades  from  pil 
ferers,  though  scarce  a  possible  pilferer  roamed 
from  the  centre  of  interest. 

Crowds  of  spectators  pressed  around  the  great 
circle;  traders  who  had  brought  packs  of  skins 
skilfully  intercepted  by  them  at  some  station 
above  Montreal ;  interpreters,  hired  by  mer 
chants  to  serve  them  during  the  fair;  coureurs 
de  bois  stretching  up  their  neck  sinews  until 
these  knotted  with  intense  and  prolonged  effort. 
In  this  standing  wall  the  habitant  was  crowded 
by  converted  Iroquois  from  the  Mountain  mis 
sion,  who,  having  learned  their  rights  as  Chris 
tians,  yielded  no  inch  of  room. 

The  sun  descended  out  of  sight  behind  Mount 
Royal,  though  his  presence  lingered  with  sky 
and  river  in  abundant  crimsons.  Still  the  smoke 
of  the  peace  pipe  rose  above  the  council  ring, 
and  eloquence  rolled  its  periods  on.  That  misty 
scarf  around  the  horizon,  which  high  noon  drove 


44  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

out  of  sight,  floated  into  view  again,  becoming 
denser  and  denser.  The  pipings  of  out-door  in 
sects  came  sharpened  through  twilight,  and  all 
the  camp-fires  were  deepening  their  hue,  before 
a  solemn  uprising  of  Frenchmen  and  Indians 
proclaimed  the  council  over. 

La  Salle  had  sat  through  it  at  the  governor's 
right  hand,  watching  those  bronze  faces  and 
restless  eyes  with  sympathy  as  great  as  Fron- 
tenac's.  He,  also,  was  a  lord  of  the  wilderness. 
He  could  more  easily  open  his  shy  nature  to 
such  red  brethren  and  eloquently  command,  de 
nounce,  or  persuade  them,  than  stand  before 
dames  and  speak  one  word,  —  which  he  was 
forced  to  attempt  when  candles  were  lighted  in 
the  candelabra  of  the  fort. 

There  was  not  such  pageantry  at  Montreal  as 
in  the  more  courtly  society  of  Quebec.  The 
appearance  of  the  governor  with  his  train  of 
young  nobles  drew  out  those  gentler  inhabitants 
who  took  no  part  in  the  bartering  of  the  beaver 
fair. 

Pcrrot,  the  sub-governor,  had  known  his  pe 
riod  of  bitter  disagreement  with  Frontenac. 
Having  made  peace  with  a  superior  he  once 
defied,  he  was  anxious  to  pay  Frontenac  every 


A    COUNCIL.  45 

honor,  and  the  two  governors  were  united  in 
their  policy  of  amusing  and  keeping  busy  so 
varied  an  assemblage  as  that  which  thronged  the 
beaver  fair.  Festivity  as  grand  as  colonial  cir 
cumstances  permitted  was  therefore  held  in  the 
governor's  apartments.  The  guarded  fortress 
gates  stood  open ;  torches  burned  within  the 
walls,  and  blanketed  savages  stalked  in  and  out. 

Yet  that  colonial  drawing-room  lacked  the 
rude  elements  which  go  to  making  most  pioneer 
societies.  Human  intercourse  in  frontier  towns 
exposed  to  danger  and  hardship,  though  it  may 
be  hearty  and  innocent,  is  rarely  graceful. 

But  here  was  a  small  Versailles  transplanted 
to  the  wilderness.  Fragments  of  a  great  court 
met  Indian-wedded  nobles  and  women  with  gen 
erations  of  good  ancestors  behind  them.  Here 
were  even  the  fashions  of  the  times  in  gowns, 
and  the  youths  of  Louis'  salon  bowed  and  paid 
compliments  to  powdered  locks.  These  French 
colonial  nobles  were  poor;  but  with  pioneer  in 
stinct  they  decorated  themselves  with  the  best 
garments  their  scanty  money  would  buy.  Here 
thronged  Dumays,  Le  Moynes,  Mousniers,  Des- 
roches,  Fleurys,  Baudrys,  Migeons,  Vigers,  Gau- 
tiers,  all  chattering  and  animated.  Here  stood 


46  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

the  Baroness  de  Saint-Castin  like  a  statue  of 
bronze.  Here  were  those  illustrious  Le  Moynes, 
father  and  sons,  whose  deeds  may  be  traced  in 
our  day  from  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  Here  Frontenac,  with  the  graciously 
winning  manner  which  belonged  to  his  pleasant 
hours,  drew  to  himself  and  soothed  disaffected 
magnates  of  his  colonial  kingdom. 

All  these  figures,  and  the  spectacles  swarm 
ing  around  the  beaver  fair,  like  combinations 
in  a  kaleidoscope  to  be  seen  once  and  seen  no 
more,  gave  Tonty  such  condensed  knowledge 
of  the  New  World  as  no  ordinary  days  could 
offer. 

La  Salle  alone,  though  fresh  from  audiences 
at  court  and  distinguished  by  royal  favor,  stood 
abashed  and  annoyed  by  the  part  he  must  play 
toward  civilized  people. 

"  Look  at  the  Sieur  de  la  Salle,"  observed 
Du  Lhut  to  Tonty.  "  There  is  a  man  who 
stands  and  fights  off  the  approach  of  every  other 
creature." 

"  There  never  was  a  man  better  formed  for 
friendship,"  retorted  Tonty.  "  Touching  his 
reserve,  I  call  that  no  blemish,  though  he  has 
said  of  it  himself,  it  is  a  defect  he  can  never  be 


A   COUNCIL.  47 

rid  of  as  long  as  he  lives,  and  often  it  spites  him 
against  himself." 

La  Salle  turned  his  shoulder  on  these  associ 
ates,  uneasily  conscious  that  his  weakness  was 
observed,  and  put  many  moving  figures  between 
himself  and  them.  He  had  the  free  gait  of  a 
woodsman  tempered  by  the  air  of  a  courtier. 
More  than  one  Montreal  girl  accusing  gold- 
embroidered  young  soldiers  of  finding  the  Que 
bec  women  charming,  turned  her  eyes  to  follow 
La  Salle.  Possible  lord  of  the  vast  and  unknown 
west,  in  the  flower  of  his  years,  he  was  next  to 
Frontenac  the  most  considerable  figure  in  the 
colony. 

Severe  study  in  early  youth  and  ambition  in 
early  manhood  had  crowded  the  lover  out  of 
La  Salle.  His  practical  gaze  was  oppressed  by 
so  many  dames.  It  dwelt  upon  the  floor,  until, 
travelling  accidentally  to  a  corner,  it  rose  and 
encountered  Jacques  le  Ber's  daughter  sitting 
beside  her  mother. 


V. 

SAINTE   JEANNE. 

TT7HEN  La  Salic  was  seignior  of  Lachine, 
before  the  king  and  Frontenac  helped  his 
ambition  to  its  present  foothold,  he  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  stopping  at  Jacques  le  Ber's  house 
when  he  came  to  Montreal. 

The  first  day  of  the  beaver  fair  greatly  tasked 
Madame  le  Ber.  She  sat  drowsily  beside  the 
eldest  child  of  her  large  absent  flock,  and  was  not 
displeased  to  have  her  husband's  distinguished 
enemy  approach  Jeanne. 

The  wife  of  Le  Ber  had  been  called  madame 
since  her  husband  bought  his  patent  of  nobility; 
but  she  held  no  strict  right  to  the  title,  even 
wives  of  the  lesser  nobles  being  then  addressed 
as  demoiselles.  In  that  simple  colonial  life 
Jacques  le  Ber,  or  his  wife  in  his  absence,  served 
goods  to  customers  over  his  own  counter.  Ma 
dame  le  Ber  was  an  excellent  woman,  who  said 
her  prayers  and  approached  the  sacraments  at 


SAINTE  JEANNE.  49 

proper  seasons.  She  had  abundant  flesh  cov 
ered  with  dark  red  skin,  and  she  often  pondered 
why  a  spirit  of  a  daughter  with  passionate  long 
ings  after  heaven  had  been  sent  to  her.  If  Sieur 

o 

de  la  Salle  could  draw  the  child's  mind  from 
extreme  devotion,  her  husband  must  feel  in 
debted  to  him. 

La  Salle's  face  relaxed  and  softened  as  he  sat 
down  beside  this  sixteen-year-old  maid  in  her 
colonial  gown.  She  held  her  crucifix  in  her 
hands,  and  waited  for  him  to  talk.  Jeanne  made 
melody  of  his  silences.  As  a  child  she  had 
never  rubbed  against  him  for  caresses,  but  looked 
into  his  eyes  with  sincere  meditation.  Having 
no  idea  of  the  explorer's  aim,  Jeanne  le  Ber  was 
yet  in  harmony  with  him  across  their  separating 
years.  She  also  could  stake  her  life  on  one  su 
preme  idea.  La  Salle  was  formed  to  subdue  the 
wilderness ;  she  was  dimly  and  ignorantly,  but 
with  her  childish  might,  undertaking  that  stranger 
region,  the  human  soul.  She  looked  younger 
than  other  girls  of  her  age ;  yet  La  Salle  was 
moved  to  say,  using  the  name  he  had  given 
her,— 

"You  have  changed  much  since  last  year, 
Sainte  Jeanne." 

4 


50  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

"  Am  I  worse,  Sieur  de  la  Salle  ? "  she  anx 
iously  inquired. 

"  No.  Better.  Except  I  fear  you  have  prayed 
yourself  to  a  greater  distance  from  me." 

"  I  name  you  in  my  prayers,  Sieur  de  la 
Salle.  Ever  since  my  father  ceased  to  be  your 
friend  I  have  asked  to  have  your  haughty  spirit 
humbled." 

La  Salle  laughed. 

"  If  you  name  me  at  all,  Sainte  Jeanne,  pray 
rather  for  the  humbling  of  my  enemies." 

"  No,  Sieur  de  la  Salle.  You  need  your  ene 
mies.  I  could  ill  do  without  mine." 

"  Who  could  be  an  enemy  to  thee  ?  " 

"  There  are  many  enemies  of  my  soul.  One 
is  my  great,  my  very  great  love." 

La  Salle's  face  whitened  and  flushed.  He  cast 
a  quick  glance  upon  the  dozing  matron,  the 
backs  of  people  whose  conversation  buzzed 
about  his  ears,  and  returned  to  Jeanne's  child 
like  white  eyelids  and  crucifix-folding  hands. 

"  Whom  do  you  love,  Sainte  Jeanne?  " 

"  I  love  my  father  so  much,  and  my  mother ; 
and  the  children  are  too  dear  to  me.  Sometimes 
when  I  rise  in  the  night  to  pray,  and  think  of 
living  apart  from  my  dear  father,  the  cold  sweat 


SAINTE  JEANNE.  51 

stands  on  my  forehead.  Too  many  dear  peo 
ple  throng  between  the  soul  and  heaven.  Even 
you,  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  —  I  have  to  pray  against 
thoughts  of  you." 

"  Do  not  pray  against  me,  Sainte  Jeanne,"  said 
the  explorer,  with  a  wistful  tremor  of  the  lower 


lip.     "  Consider  how  few  there  be  that  love  me 
well." 

Her  eyes  rested  on  him  with  divining  gaze. 
Jeanne  le  Ber's  eyes  had  the  singular  function 
of  sending  innumerable  points  of  light  swimming 
through  the  iris,  as  if  the  soul  were  in  motion 
and  shaking  off  sparkles. 


52  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

11  If  you  lack  love  and  suffer  thereby,"  she 
instructed  him,  "  it  will  profit  your  soul." 

La  Salle  interlaced  his  fingers,  resting  his 
hands  upon  his  knees,  and  gave  her  a  look 
which  was  both  amused  and  tender. 

"  And  what  other  enemies  has  Sainte  Jeanne?  " 

"  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  have  I  not  often  told  you 
what  a  sinner  I  am?  It  ridicules  me  to  call  me 
saint." 

"  Since  you  have  grown  to  be  a  young  demoi 
selle  I  ought  to  call  you  Mademoiselle  le  Ber." 

"Call  me  Sainte  Jeanne  rather  than  that.  I 
do  not  want  to  be  a  young  demoiselle,  or  in 
this  glittering  company.  It  is  my  father  who 
insists." 

"  Nor  do  I  want  to  be  in  this  glittering  com 
pany,  Sainte  Jeanne." 

"  The  worst  of  all  the  other  enemies,  Sieur  de 
la  Salle,  are  vanity  and  a  dread  of  enduring  pain. 
I  am  very  fond  of  dress."  The  young  creature 
drew  a  deep  regretful  breath. 

"But  you  mortify  this  fondness?"  said  La 
Salle,  accompanying  with  whimsical  sympathy 
every  confession  of  Jeanne  le  Ber's. 

"  Indeed  I  have  to  humiliate  myself  often  — 
often.  When  this  evil  desire  takes  strong  hold, 


SAINTE  JEANNE.  53 

I  put  on  the  meanest  rag  I  can  find.  But  my 
father  and  mother  will  never  let  me  go  thus 
humbled  to  Mass." 

"Therein  do  I  commend  your  father  and 
mother,"  said  La  Salle ;  "  though  the  outside 
we  bear  toward  men  is  of  little  account.  But 
tell  me  how  do  you  school  yourself  to  pain, 
Sainte  Jeanne?  I  have  not  learned  to  bear  pain 
well  in  all  my  years." 

Jeanne  again  met  his  face  with  swarming  lights 
in  her  eyes.  Seeing  that  no  one  observed  them 
she  bent  her  head  toward  La  Salle  and  parted 
the  hair  over  her  crown.  The  straight  fine 
growth  was  very  thick  and  of  'a  brown  color. 
It  reminded  him  of  midwinter  swamp  grasses 
springing  out  of  a  bed  of  snow.  A  mat  of 
burrs  was  pressed  to  this  white  scalp.  Some  of 
the  hair  roots  showed  red  stains. 

"These  hurt  me  all  the  time,"  said  Jeanne. 
"And  it  is  excellent  torture  to  comb  them 
out." 

She  covered  the  burrs  with  a  swift  pressure, 
tightly  closing  her  mouth  and  eyes  with  the 
spasm  of  pain  this  caused,  and  once  more  took 
and  folded  the  crucifix  within  her  hands. 

The  explorer   made   no   remonstrance   against 


54  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

such  self-torture,  though  his  practical  gaze  re 
mained  on  her  youthful  brier-crowned  head.  He 
heard  a  girl  in  front  of  him  laugh  to  a  courtier 
who  was  flattering  her. 

"  He,  monsieur,  I  have  myself  seen  Quebec 
women  who  dressed  with  odious  taste." 

But  Jeanne,  wrapped  in  her  own  relation,  con 
tinued  with  a  tone  which  slighted  mere  physical 
pain,  - 

"  There  is  a  better  way  to  suffer,  Sieur  de  la 
Salle,  and  that  is  from  ill-treatment.  Such  an 
guish  can  be  dealt  out  by  the  hands  we  love ; 
but  I  have  no  friend  willing  to  discipline  me 
thus.  My  father's  servant  Jolycceur  is  the  only 
person  who  makes  me  as  wretched  as  I  ought 
to  be." 

"  Discipline  through  Jolycceur,"  said  La  Salle, 
laughing,  "  is  what  my  proud  stomach  could 
never  endure." 

"  Perhaps  you  have  not  such  need,  Sieur  de  la 
Salle.  My  father  has  many  times  turned  him 
off,  but  I  plead  until  he  is  brought  back.  He 
hath  this  whole  year  been  a  means  of  grace  to 
me  by  his  great  impudence.  If  I  say  to  him, 
'Jolycceur,  do  this  or  that,'  he  never  fails  to 
reply,  (  Do  it  yourself,  Mademoiselle  Jeanne,'  and 


SAINTE   JEANNE.  55 

adds  profanity  to  make   Heaven   blush.     When 
ever  he  can  approach  near  enough,  he  whispers 
contemptuous    names    at   me,    so    that   I  cannot 
'keep   back,  the  tears.     Yet   how   little  I  endure, 
[when    Saint    Lawrence    perished   on   a    gridiron, 
and  all  the  other  holy  martyrs  shame  me  !  " 

"Your  father  does  not  suffer  these  things  to 
be  done  to  you?  " 

"No,  Sieur  de  la  Salle.  My  father  knows 
naught  of  it  except  my  pity.  He  did  once  kick 
Jolycceur,  who  left  our  house  three  days,  so  that 
I  was  in  danger  of  sinking  in  slothful  comfort. 
But  I  got  him  brought  back,  and  he  lay  drunk 
in  our  garden  with  his  mouth  open,  so  that  my 
soul  shuddered  to  look  at  him.  It  was  excellent 
discipline,"  1  said  Jeanne,  with  a  long  breath. 

"Jolycoeur  will  better  adorn  the  woods  and 
risk  his  worthless  neck  on  water  for  my  uses, 
than  longer  chafe  your  tender  nature,"  said  La 
Salle.  "  He  has  been  in  my  service  before,  and 
craved  to-day  that  I  would  enlist  him  again." 

"Had  my  father  turned  him  off?"  asked 
Jeanne,  with  consternation. 

l  The  asceticism  here  attributed  to  Mademoiselle  Jeanne  le 
Ber  was  really  practised  by  the  wife  of  an  early  colonial  noble. 
See  Turkman's  Old  Regime,  p.  355. 


56  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

"  He  said  Jacques  le  Ber  had  lifted  a  hand 
against  him  for  innocently  neglecting  to  carry 
bales  of  merchandise  to  a  booth." 

"  I  did  miss  the  smell  of  rum  downstairs  be 
fore  we  came  away,"  said  the  girl,  sadly.  "  And 
will  you  take  my  scourge  from  me,  Sieur  de  la 
Salle?" 

"  I  will  give  him  a  turn  at  suffering  himself," 
answered  La  Salle.  "  The  fellow  shall  be 
whipped  on  some  pretext  when  I  get  him  within 
Fort  Frontenac,  for  every  pang  he  hath  laid 
upon  you.  He  is  no  stupid.  He  knew  what  he 
was  doing." 

"  Oh,  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  Jolycceur  was  only  the 
instrument  of  Heaven.  He  is  not  to  blame." 

"  If  I  punish  him  not,  it  will  be  on  your 
promise  to  seek  no  more  torments,  Sainte 
Jeanne." 

"  There  are  no  more  for  me  to  seek ;  for  who 
in  our  house  will  now  be  unkind  to  me?  But, 
Sieur  de  la  Salle,  I  feel  sure  that  during  my  life 
time  I  shall  be  permitted  to  suffer  as  much  as 
Heaven  could  require." 

Man  and  child,  each  surrounded  by  his  pecu 
liar  world,  sat  awhile  longer  together  in  silence, 
and  then  La  Salle  joined  the  governor. 


B 


VI. 

THE   PROPHECY   OF   JOLYCCEUR. 

Y    next    mid-day    the    beaver  fair  was    at   its 
height,  and  humming  above  the  monotone 
of  the  St.   Lawrence. 

Montreal,  founded  by  religious  enthusiasts  and 
having  the  Sulpitian  priests  for  its  seigniors,  was 
a  quiet  town  when  left  to  itself,  —  when  the  fac 
tions  of  Quebec  did  not  meet  its  own  factions  in 
the  street  with  clubs;  or  coureurs  de  bois  roar 
along  the  house  sides  in  drunken  joy ;  or  sudden 
glares  on  the  night  landscape  with  attendant 
screeching  proclaim  an  Iroquois  raid;  or  this 
annual  dissipation  in  beaver  skins  crowd  it  for 
two  days  with  strangers. 

Among  colonists  who  had  thronged  out  to 
meet  the  bearers  of  colonial  riches  as  soon  as 
the  first  Indian  canoe  was  beached,  were  the 
coureurs  de  bois.  They  still  swarmed  about, 
making  or  renewing  acquaintances,  here  acting 


58  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

as  interpreters  and  there  trading  on  their  own 
account. 

Before  some  booths  Indians  pressed  in  rows, 
demanding  as  much  as  the  English  gave  for  their 
furs,  though  the  price  was  set  by  law.  French 
merchants  poked  their  fingers  into  the  satin 
pliancy  of  skins  to  search  for  flaws.  Dealers 
who  had  no  booths  pressed  with  their  inter 
preters  from  tribe  to  tribe,  —  small  merchants 
picking  the  crumbs  of  profit  from  under  their 
brethren's  tables.  There  was  greedy  demand 
for  the  first  quality  of  skins;  for  beaver  came 
to  market  in  three  grades :  "  Castor  gras,  castor 
demi-gras,  et  castor  sec." 

The  booths  were  hung  with  finery,  upon  which 
squaws  stood  gazing  with  a  stoical  eye  to  be 
envied  by  civilized  woman. 

The  cassocks  of  Sulpitians  and  gray  capotes 
of  Recollet  Fathers  —  favorites  of  Frontenac  who 
hated  Jesuits  —  penetrated  in  constant  supervi 
sion  every  recess  of  the  beaver  fair.  Yet  in  spite 
of  this  religious  care  rum  was  sold,  its  effects 
increasing  as  the  day  moved  on. 

A  hazy  rosy  atmosphere  had  shorn  the  sun  so 
that  he  hung  a  large  red  globe  in  the  sky.  The 
land  basked  in  melting  tints.  Scarcely  any  wind 


THE  PROPHECY  OF  JOLYCCEUR.  59 

flowed  on  the  river.  Ste.  Helen's  Island  and 
even  Mount  Royal,  the  seminary  and  stone  wind 
mill,  the  row  of  wooden  houses  and  palisade  tips, 
all  had  their  edges  blurred  by  hazy  light. 

Amusement  could  hardly  be  lacking  in  any 
gathering  of  French  people  not  assembled  for 
ceremonies  of  religion.  In  Quebec  the  gover 
nor's  court  were  inclined  to  entertain  themselves 
with  their  own  performance  of  spectacles.  But 
Montreal  had  beheld  too  many  spectacles  of  a 
tragic  sort,  had  grasped  too  much  the  gun  and 
spade,  to  have  any  facility  in  mimic  play. 

Still  the  beaver  fair  was  enlivened  by  music 
and  tricksy  gambols.  Through  all  the  ever  open 
ing  and  closing  avenues  a  pageant  went  up  and 
down,  at  which  no  colonist  of  New  France  could 
restrain  his  shouts  of  laughter,  —  a  Dutchman 
with  enormous  stomach,  long  pipe,  and  short 
breeches,  walking  beside  a  lank  and  solemn 
Bostonnais.  The  two  youths  who  had  attired 
themselves  for  this  masking  were  of  Saint-Cas- 
tin's  train.  That  one  who  acted  Puritan  had 
drawn  austere  seams  in  his  face  with  charcoal. 
His  plain  collar  was  severely  turned  down  over 
a  black  doublet,  which,  with  the  sombre  breeches 
and  hose,  had  perhaps  been  stripped  from  some 


6O  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

enemy  that  troubled  Saint-Castin's  border.  The 
Bostonnais  sung  high  shrill  airs  from  a  book  he 
carried  in  one  hand,  only  looking  up  to  shake 
his  head  with  cadaverous  warning  at  his  roaring 
spectators.  One  arm  was  linked  in  the  Dutch 
man's,  who  took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth  to 
say  good-humoredly,  "  Ya-ya,  ya-ya,"  to  every 
sort  of  taunt. 

These  types  of  rival  colonies  were  such  an 
exhilaration  to  the  traders  of  New  France  that 
they  pointed  out  the  show  to  each  other  and 
pelted  it  with  epithets  all  day. 

La  Salle  came  out  of  the  palisade  gate  of  the 
town,  leading  by  the  hand  a  frisking  little  girl. 
He  restrained  her  from  farther  progress  into  the 
moving  swarm,  although  she  dragged  his  arm. 

"  Thou  canst  here  see  all  there  is  of  it,  Barbe. 
The  nuns  did  well  to  oppose  your  looking  on 
this  roaring  commerce.  You  should  be  housed 
within  the  Hotel  Dieu  all  this  day,  had  I  not 
spoken  a  careless  word  yesterday.  You  saw 
the  governor's  procession.  To-morrow  he  will 
start  on  his  return.  And  I  with  my  men  go  to 
Fort  Frontenac." 

"  And  at  day  dawn  naught  of  the  Indians  can 
be  found,"  added  Barbe,  "except  their  ashes 


THE  PROPHECY  OF  JOLYCCEUR.  63 

and  litter  and  the  broken  flasks  they  leave.     The 
trader's  booths  will  also  be  empty  and  dirty." 

"  Come  then,  tiger-cat,  return  to  thy  cage." 

"  My  uncle  La  Salle,  let  me  look  a  moment 
longer.  See  that  fat  man  and  his  lean  brother 
the  people  are  pointing  at !  Even  the  Indians 
jump  and  jeer.  I  would  strike  them  for  such 
insolence !  There,  my  uncle  La  Salle,  there  is 
Monsieur  Iron-hand  talking  to  the  ugly  servant 
of  Jeanne  le  Ber's  father." 

La  Salle  easily  found  Tonty.  He  was  in 
structing  and  giving  orders  to  several  men  col 
lected  for  the  explorer's  service.  Jolycceur,1 
his  cap  set  on  sidewise,  was  yet  abashed  in  his 
impudence  by  the  mastery  of  Tonty.  He  wore 
a  new  suit  of  buckskin,  with  the  coureur  de 
bois'  red  sash  knotted  around  his  waist. 

"  My  uncle  La  Salle,"  inquired  Barbe,  turning 
over  a  disturbance  in  her  mind,  "  must  I  live 
in  the  convent  until  I  wed  a  man?" 

"  The  convent  is  held  a  necessary  discipline 
for  young  maids." 

i  Several  historians  identify  Jolycoeur  with  the  noted  coureur 
de  bois  and  writer,  Nicolas  Perrot.  But  considering  the  deed  he 
attempted,  the  romancer  has  seen  fit  to  portray  him  as  a  very 
different  person. 


64  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

"  I  will  then  choose  Monsieur  Iron-hand  di 
rectly.  He  would  make  a  good  husband." 

"  I  think  you  are  right,"  agreed  La  Salle. 

"  Because  he  would  have  but  one  hand  to 
catch  me  with  when  I  wished  to  run  auray," 
explained  Barbe.  "  If  he  had  also  lost  his  feet 
it  would  be  more  convenient." 

"  The  marriage  between  Monsieur  de  Tonty 
and  Mademoiselle  Barbe  Cavelier  may  then  be 
arranged?  " 

She  looked  at  her  uncle,  answering  his  smile 
of  amusement.  But  curving  her  neck  from  side 
to  side,  she  still  examined  the  Italian  soldier. 

"  I  can  outrun  most  people,"  suggested  Barbe; 
"  but  Monsieur  de  Tonty  looks  very  tall  and 
strong." 

"  Your  intention  is  to  take  to  the  woods  as 
soon  as  marriage  sets  you  free?" 

"  My  uncle  La  Salle,  I  do  have  such  a  desire 
to  be  free  in  the  woods !  " 

"Have  you,  my  child?  If  the  wilderness 
thus  draws  you,  you  will  sometime  embrace  it 
Cavelier  blood  is  wild  juice." 

"And  could  I  take  my  fortune  with  me?  If 
it  cumbered  I  would  leave  it  behind  with  Mon 
sieur  de  Tonty  or  my  brother." 


THE  PROPHECY  OF  JOLYCCEUR.  65 

"  You  will  need  all  your  fortune  for  ventures 
in  the  wilderness." 

"  And  the  fortunes  of  all  your  relatives  and 
of  as  many  as  will  give  you  credit  besides," 
said  a  priest  wearing  the  Sulpitian  dress.  He 
stopped  before  them  and  looked  sternly  at 
Barbe. 

The  Abbe  Jean  Cavelier  had  not  such  robust 
manhood  as  his  brother.  In  him  the  Cavelier 
round  lower  lip  and  chin  protruded,  and  the 
eyebrows  hung  forward. 

La  Salle  had  often  felt  that  he  stooped  in 
conciliating  Jean,  when  Jean  held  the  family 
purse  and  doled  out  loans  to  an  explorer  always 
kept  needy  by  great  plans. 

Jean  had  strongly  the  instinct  of  accumula 
tion.  He  gauged  the  discovery  and  settlement 
of  a  continent  by  its  promise  of  wealth  to  him 
self.  His  adherence  to  La  Salle  was  therefore 
delicately  adjusted  by  La  Salle's  varying  for 
tunes  ;  though  at  all  times  he  gratified  himself 
by  handling  with  tyranny  this  younger  and  dis 
tinguished  brother.  Generous  admiration  of 
another's  genius  flowering  from  his  stock  with 
the  perfect  expression  denied  him,  was  scarcely 
possible  in  Jean  Cavelier. 

5 


66  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

"  The  Sisters  said  I  might  come  hither  with 
my  uncle  La  Salle,"  replied  Barbe,  to  his  un 
spoken  rebuke. 

"  Into  whose  charge  were  your  brother  and 
yourself  put  when  your  parents  died?" 

"  Into  the  charge  of  my  uncle  the  Abbe 
Cavelier." 

"  Who  brought  your  brother  and  you  to  this 
colony  that  he  might  watch  over  your  nurture?  " 
"  My  uncle  the  Abbe  Cavelier." 
"  It  is  therefore  your  uncle  the  Abbe  Cavelier 
who    will  decide   when  to  turn  you  out   among 
Indians  and  traders." 

"  You  carry  too  bitter  a  tongue,  my  brother 
Jean,"  observed  La  Salle.  "  The  child  has 
caught  no  harm.  My  own  youth  was  cramped 
within  religious  walls." 

"  You  carry  too  arrogant  a  mind  now,  my 
brother  La  Salle.  I  heard  it  noted  of  you  to 
day  that  you  last  night  sat  apart  and  deigned 
no  word  to  them  that  have  been  of  use  to  you 
in  Montreal." 

La  Salle's  face  owned  the  sting.  Shy  natures 
have  always  been  made  to  pay  a  tax  on  pride. 
But  next  to  the  slanderer  we  detest  the  bearer 
of  his  slander  to  our  ears. 


THE  PROPHECY  OF  JOLYCCEUR.  6? 

"  It  is  too  much  for  any  man  to  expect  in 
this  world,  —  a  brother  who  will  defend  him 
against  his  enemies." 

As  soon  as  this  regret  had  burst  from  the 
explorer,  he  rested  his  look  again  on  Tonty. 

"I  do  defend  you,"  asserted  Abbe  Cavelier; 
"  and  more  than  that  I  impoverish  myself  for 
you.  But  now  that  you  come  riding  back  from 
France  on  a  high  tide  of  the  king's  favor,  I 
may  not  lay  a  correcting  word  on  your  haughty 
spirit.  Neither  yesterday  nor  to-day  could  I 
bring  you  to  any  reasonable  state  of  humility. 
And  all  New  France  in  full  cry  against  you  !  " 

Extreme  impatience  darkened  La  Salle's  face ; 
but  without  further  reply  he  drew  Barbe's  hand 
and  turned  back  with  her  toward  the  H6tel 
Dieu.  She  had  watched  her  uncle  the  Abbe 
wrathfully  during  his  attack  upon  La  Salle,  but 
as  he  dropped  his  eyes  no  more  to  her  level 
she  was  obliged  to  carry  away  her  undischarged 
anger.  This  she  did  with  a  haughty  bearing 
so  like  La  Salle's  that  the  Abbe  grinned  at  it 
through  his  fretfulness. 

He  grew  conscious  of  alien  hair  bristling 
against  his  neck  as  a  voice  mocked  in  under 
tone  directly  below  his  ear,  — 


68  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

"  Yonder  struts  a  great  Bashaw  that  will 
sometime  be  laid  low !  " 

The  Abbe  turned  severely  upon  a  person  who 
presumed  to  tickle  a  priest's  neck  with  his 
coarse  mustache  and  astound  a  priest's  ear  with 
threats. 

He  recognized  the  man  known  as  Jolycceur, 
who  had  been  pushed  against  him  in  the  throng. 
Jolycceur,  by  having  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  dis 
appearing  figure  of  La  Salle,  had  missed  the 
ear  of  the  person  he  intended  to  reach.  He 
recoiled  from  encountering  the  Abbe,  whose 
wrath  with  sudden  ebb  ran  back  from  a  brother 
upon  a  brother's  foes. 

"  You  are  the  fellow  I  saw  whining  yesterday 
at  Sieur  de  la  Salle's  heels.  What  hath  the 
Sieur  de  la  Salle  done  to  any  of  you  worth 
less  woods-rangers,  except  give  you  labor  and 
wages,  when  the  bread  you  eat  is  a  waste  of 
his  substance?  " 

Jolycceur,  not  daring  to  reply  to  a  priest, 
slunk  away  in  the  crowd. 


25oofe  II. 

FORT   FRONTENAC. 

1683  A.  D. 


I. 

RIVAL   MASTERS. 

THE  gate  of  Fort  Frontenac  opened  to  admit 
several  persons  headed  by  a  man  who  had  a 
closely  wrapped  girl  by  his  side.  Before  wooden 
palisades  and  walls  of  stone  enclosed  her,  she 
turned  her  face  to  look  across  the  mouth  of  Cata- 
raqui  River  and  at  Lake  Ontario  rippling  full  of 
submerged  moonlight.  A  magnified  moon  was 
rising.  Farther  than  eye  could  reach  it  softenec 
that  northern  landscape  and  provoked  mystery 
in  the  shadows  of  the  Thousand  Islands. 

South  of  the  fort  were  some  huts  set  along  the 
margin  of  Ontario  according  to  early  French 
custom,  which  demanded  a  canoe  highway  in 
front  of  every  man's  door.  West  of  these,  half 
hid  by  forest,  was  an  Indian  village;  and  distinct 
between  the  two  rose  the  huge  white  cross 
planted  by  Father  Hennepin  when  he  was  f 
sent  as  missionary  to  Fort  Frontenac. 


72  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

An  officer  appeared  beside  the  sentinel  at  the 
gate,  and  took  off  his  hat  before  the  muffled 
shape  led  first  into  his  fortress.  She  bent  her 
head  for  this  civility  and  held  her  father's  arm  in 


silence.  Canoemen  and  followers  with  full 
knowledge  of  the  place  moved  on  toward  bar 
racks  or  bakery.  But  the  officer  stopped  their 
master,  saying, — 

"  Monsieur  le  Ber,  I  have  news  for  you." 
"  I   have   none   for  you,"  responded  the  mer 
chant.     "  It  is  ever  the  same  story,  —  men  lost  in 
the   rapids   and   voyagers  drenched  to  the  skin. 


RIVAL  MASTERS.  73 

However,  we  had  but  one  man  drowned  this 
time,  and  are  only  half  dead  of  fatigue  ourselves. 
Let  us  have  some  supper  at  once.  What  are 
your  reports  ?  " 

"  Monsieur,  the  Sieur  de  la  Salle  arrived  here 
a  few  hours  ago  from  the  fort  on  the  Illinois." 

"The  Sieur  de  la  Salle?" 

"  Yes,  monsieur." 

"  Why  did  you  let  him  in  ?  "  demanded  Le 
Ber,  fiercely.  "  He  hath  no  rights  in  this  for 
tress  now." 

"  His  men  were  much  exhausted,  monsieur." 

"  He  could  have  camped  at  the  settlement." 

"  Monsieur,  I  wish  to  tell  you  at  once  that  the 
last  families  have  left  the  settlement." 

"  The  Indians  are  yet  there?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur.  But  our  settlers  were  afraid 
our  Indians  would  join  the  other  Iroquois." 

"  How  many  men  had  La  Salle  with  him?  " 

"  No  more  than  half  your  party,  monsieur 
There  was  Jolycceur  —  " 

"  I  tell  you  La  Salle  has  no  rights  in  this  fort," 
interrupted  Le  Ber.  "  If  he  meddles  with  his 
merchandise  stored  here  which  the  government 
has  seized  upon,  I  will  arrest  him." 

"  Yes,  monsieur.     The  Father  Louis  Hennepin 


74  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

has  also  arrived  from  the  wilderness  after  great 
peril  and  captivity." 

"  Tell  me  that  La  Salle's  man  Tonty  is  here ! 
Tell  me  that  there  is  a  full  muster  of  all  the 
vagabonds  from  Michillimackinac  !  Tell  me  that 
Fort  St.  Louis  of  the  Illinois  hath  moved  on  Fort 
Frontenac !  " 

The  merchant's  voice  ascended  a  pyramid  of 
vexation. 

"  No,  monsieur.  Monsieur  de  Tonty  is  not 
here.  And  the  Father  Louis  Plennepin 1  only 
rests  a  few  days  before  the  fatigue  of  descending 
the  rapids  to  Montreal.  It  was  a  grief  to  him  to 
find  his  mission  and  the  settlement  so  decayed 
after  only  five  years'  absence." 

"  Why  do  you  fret  me  with  the  decay  of  the 
mission  and  breaking  up  of  the  settlement?  If  I 
were  here  as  commandant  of  this  fort  I  might 
then  be  blamed  for  its  ruin.  Perhaps  my  asso 
ciates  made  a  mistake  in  retaining  an  officer  who 
had  served  under  La  Salle." 

The  commandant  made  no  retort,  but  said,  — 

"  Monsieur,  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  tell  you 
we  have  another  fair  demoiselle  within  our  walls 
to  the  honor  of  Fort  Frontenac.  The  Abbe 
1  Historians  return  Father  Hennepin  to  France  in  1681. 


RIVAL   MASTERS.  75 

Cavelier  with  men  from  Lachine,  arrived  this 
morning,  his  young  niece  being  with  him. 
There  are  brave  women  in  Montreal." 

"That  is  right, — that  is  right!"  exclaimed 
the  irritable  merchant.  "  Call  all  the  Cavelier 
family  hither  and  give  up  the  fortress.  I  heard 
the  Abbe  had  ventured  ahead  of  me." 

"  Monsieur  le  Ber,  what  can  they  do  against 
the  king  and  the  governor?  Both  king  and 
governor  have  dispossessed  La  Salle.  I  admitted 
him  as  any  wayfarer.  The  Abbe  Cavelier  came 
with  a  grievance  against  his  brother.  He  hath 
lost  money  by  him  the  same  as  others." 

"  Thou  shalt  not  be  kept  longer  in  the  night 
air,"  said  Le  Ber,  with  sudden  tenderness  to  his 
daughter.  "  There  is  dampness  within  these 
walls  to  remind  us  of  our  drenchings  in  the 
rapids." 

"  We  have  fire  in  both  upper  and  lower  rooms 
of  the  officers'  quarters,"  said  the  commandant. 

They  walked  toward  the  long  dwelling,  their 
shadows  stretching  and  blending  over  the  ground. 

"  Where  have  you  lodged  these  men  ? "  in 
quired  Le  Ber. 

The  officer  pointed  to  the  barrack  end  of  the 
structure  made  of  hewed  timbers.  The  wider 


76  THE   STORY  OF   TONTY. 

portion  intended  for  commandant's  headquarters 
was  built  of  stone,  with  Norman  eaves  and  win 
dows.  Near  the  barracks  stood  a  guardhouse. 
The  bakery  was  at  the  opposite  side  of  the 
gateway,  and  beyond  it  was  the  mill.  La  Salle 
had  founded  well  this  stronghold  in  the  wilder 
ness.  Walls  of  hewed  stone  enclosed  three  sides, 
nine  small  cannon  being  mounted  thereon.1  Pali 
sades  were  the  defence  on  the  water  side.  Fort 
Frontenac  was  built  with  four  bastions.  In  two  of 
these  bastions  were  vaulted  towers  which  served 
as  magazines  for  ammunition.2  A  well  was  dug 
within  the  walls. 

The  moon  threw  silhouette  palisades  on  the 
ground,  and  made  all  these  buildings  cut  blocks 
of  shadow.  There  was  a  stir  of  evening  wind  in 
the  forest  all  around. 

4<  The  men  are  in  the  barracks.  But  Sicur  de 
la  Salle  is  in  the  officers'  house." 

"  May  I  ask  you,  Commandant,"  demanded  Le 
Bcr,  "where  you  propose  to  lodge  my  daughter 
whom  I  have  brought  through  the  perils  of  the 
rapids,  and  cannot  now  return  with?" 

"  Mademoiselle  le  Ber  is  most  welcome  to  my 

1  Parkman. 

2  Manuscript  relating  to  early  history  of  Canada. 


RIVAL   MASTERS.  77 

own  apartment,  monsieur,  and  I  will  myself  come 
downstairs." 

"  Have  you  no  empty  rooms  in  the  officers' 
quarters?  " 

"  One  near  mine  for  yourself,  monsieur.  But 
with  the  Abbe  and  his  niece  and  the  boy  and 
La  Salle  and  Father  Hennepin,  to  say  no  more, 
can  we  have  many  empty  rooms?  Father  Hen 
nepin  is  lodged  downstairs,  but  La  Salle  hath  his 
old  room  overlooking  the  river." 

"  How  does  he  appear,  Commandant?  " 

"  Worn  in  his  garb  and  very  thin  visaged,  but 
unmoved  by  his  misfortunes  as  a  man  of  rock. 
Any  one  else  would  be  prostrate  and  hopeless." 

"  A  madman,"  pronounced  Le  Ber. 

Careless  laughter  resounded  from  the  barracks. 
Some  water  creature  made  so  distinct  a  splash 
and  struggle  in  Cataraqtii  River  that  imagina 
tion  followed  the  widening  circles  spreading 
from  its  body  until  an  island  broke  their  huge 
circumference. 

"  See  that  something  be  sent  us  from  the 
bakehouse,"  said  Le  Ber  to  the  command 
ant,  before  leading  his  daughter  into  the  quar 
ters.  "  My  men  have  brought  provisions  from 
Montreal." 


7 8  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

"  We  can  give  you  a  good  supper,  monsieur. 
Two  young  deer  were  brought  in  to-day.  As 
for  Monsieur  de  la  Salle,"  the  commandant 
added,  turning  back  from  the  door  of  the  bar 
racks,  "you  will  perhaps  not  meet  him  at  all 
in  the  officers'  quarters.  He  ate  and  threw 
himself  down  at  once  to  sleep,  and  he  is  in 
haste  to  set  forward  to  Quebec." 

The  bakehouse  was  illuminated  by  its  oven 
fire  which  shone  with  a  dull  crimson  through 
the  open  door,  but  failed  to  find  out  dusky 
corners  where  bales,  barrels,  and  cook's  tools 
were  stored.  The  oven  was  built  in  the  wall, 
of  stone  and  cement.  The  cook,  a  skipping 
little  fellow  smocked  in  white  and  wearing  a 
cap,  said  to  himself  as  he  raked  out  coals  and 
threw  them  in  the  fireplace,  — 

"  What  a  waste  of  good  material  is  this,  when 
they  glow  and  breathe  with  such  ardor  to  roast 
some  worthy  martyr  !  " 

"  The  beginning  of  a  martyr  is  a  saint,"  ob 
served  a  soldier  of  the  garrison,  putting  his 
fur-covered  head  between  door  and  door-post 
in  the  little  space  he  opened.  "  We  have  a 
saint  just  landed  at  Fort  Frontenac." 

He   stepped   in   and  shut  the  door,  to  lounge 


RIVAL   MASTERS. 


79 


with  the   cook  while  the  order  he  brought  was 
obeyed. 

"  Some  of  the  best  you  have,  with  a  tender 
cut  of  venison,  for  Jacques  le  Ber  and  his 
daughter.  And  some  salt  meat  for  his  men 
in  the  barracks." 

The  cook  made  light  skips  across  the  floor 
and  returned  with  venison. 

"  Well-timed,  my  child ;  for  the  coals  are 
ready,  and  so  are  my  cakes  for  the  oven.  Le 
Ber  is  soon  served.  Get  upon  your  knees  by 
the  hearth  and  watch  this  cut  broil,  while  I 
slice  the  larding  for  the  sore  sides  of  these 
fellows  that  labored  through  the  rapids." 

When  you  are  housed  in  a  garrison  the  cook 
becomes  a  potentate ;  the  soldier  went  willingly 
down  as  assistant. 

"  Are  all  the  demoiselles  of  Montreal  coming 
to  Fort  Frontenac?  "  inquired  the  cook,  skipping 
around  a  great  block  on  which  lay  a  slab  of 
cured  meat,  and  nicely  poising  his  knife-tip 
over  it. 

"  That  I  cannot  tell  you,"  replied  the  soldier, 
beginning  to  perspire  before  the  coals.  "  Le 
Ber's  men  have  been  talking  in  the  barracks 
about  this  daughter  of  his.  He  brought  her 


80  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

almost  by  force  out  of  'his  house,  where  she 
has  taken  to  shutting  herself  in  her  own  room." 

"  I  have  heard  of  this  demoiselle,"  said  the 
cook.  u  May  the  saints  incline  more  women  to 
shut  themselves  up  at  home !  " 

"  She  is  his  favorite  child.  He  brought  her 
on  this  dangerous  voyage  to  wean  her  from  too 
much  praying." 

"  Too  much  praying !  "  exclaimed  the  cook. 

"  He  desires  to  have  her  look  more  on  the 
world,  lest  she  should  die  of  holiness,"  ex 
plained  the  soldier. 

"  Turn  that  venison,"  shouted  the  cook.  "Was 
there  ever  a  saint  who  liked  burnt  meat?  I 
could  lift  this  Jacques  le  Ber  on  a  hot  fork 
for  dragging  out  a  woman  who  inclined  to  stay 
praying  in  the  house.  Some  men  are  stone 
blind  to  the  blessings  of  Heaven !  " 


II. 

A   TRAVELLED    FRIAR. 

HPHE  lower  room  of  the  officers'  lodging  was 
filled  with  the  light  of  a  fire.  To  the 
hearth  was  drawn  a  half-circle  of  men,  their 
central  figure  being  a  Recollet  friar,  so  ragged 
and  weather-stained  that  he  seemed  some  eccle 
siastical  scarecrow  placed  there  to  excite  laugh 
ter  and  tears  in  his  beholders. 

This  group  arose  as  Jacques  le  Ber  entered 
with  his  daughter,  and  were  eager  to  be  of 
service  to  her. 

"  There  is  a  fire  lighted  in  the  hall  upstairs 
by  which  mademoiselle  can  sit,"  said  the  ser 
geant  of  the  fort. 

Le  Ber  conducted  her  to  the  top  of  a  stair 
case  which  ascended  the  side  of  the  room 
before  he  formally  greeted  any  one  present.  He 
returned,  unwinding  his  saturated  wool  wrap 
pings  and  pulling  off  his  cap  of  beaver  skin. 
He  was  a  swarthy  man  with  anxious  and  cal 
culating  wrinkles  between  his  eyebrows. 
6 


82  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

"  Do  I  see  Father  Hennepin?"  exclaimed 
Le  Ber,  squaring  his  mouth,  "  or  is  this  a  false 
image  of  him  set  before  me?" 

"  You  see  Father  Hennepin,"  the  friar  re 
sponded  with  dignity,  —  "explorer,  missionary 
among  the  Sioux,  and  sufferer  in  the  cause  of 
religion." 

"  How    about    that    hunger    for    adventure,  - 
hast   thou   appeased  it?"   inquired   Le  Ber  with 
freedom    of  manner   he    never  assumed    toward 
any  other  priest. 

The  merchant  stood  upon  the  hearth  steaming 
in  front  of  the  tattered  Recollet,  who  from  his 
seat  regarded  his  half-enemy  with  a  rebuking 
eye  impressive  to  the  other  men. 

"  Jacques  le  Ber,  my  son,  while  your  greedy 
hands  have  been  gathering  money,  the  poor 
Franciscan  has  baptized  heathen,  discovered  and 
explored  rivers;  he  has  lived  the  famished  life 
of  a  captive,  and  come  nigh  death  in  many 
ways.  I  have  seen  a  great  waterfall  five  hun 
dred  feet  high,  whereunder  four  carriages  might 
pass  abreast  without  being  wet.  I  have  de 
pended  for  food  on  what  Heaven  sent.  Vast 
fish  are  to  be  found  in  the  waters  of  that 
western  land,  and  there  also  you  may  see  beasts 


A    TRAVELLED  FRIAR.  83 

having  manes  and  hoofs  and  horns,  to  frighten 
a  Christian." 

"  And  what  profit  doth  La  Salle  get  out  of 
all  this?"  inquired  Le  Ber,  spreading  his  legs 
before  the  fire  as  he  looked  down  at  Father 
Hennepin. 

"What  I  have  accomplished  has  been  done 
for  the  spread  of  the  faith,  and  not  for  the  glory 
of  Monsieur  de  la  Salle,  who  has  treated  me 
badly." 

"Does  he  ever  treat  any  one  well?"  exclaimed 
Le  Ber.  "  Does  not  every  man  in  his  service 
want  to  shoot  him?" 

"  He  has  an  over-haughty  spirit,  which  breaks 
out  into  envy  of  men  like  me,"  admitted  the 
good  Fleming,  whose  weather-seamed  face  and 
plump  lips  glowed  with  conscious  greatness  be 
fore  the  fire.  "  I  have  decided  to  avoid  further 
encounter  with  Monsieur  de  la  Salle  while  we 
both  remain  at  Fort  Frontenac,  for  my  mind  is 
set  on  peace,  and  it  is  true  where  Monsieur  de 
la  Salle  appears  there  can  be  no  peace." 

Jacques  le  Ber  turned  himself  to  face  the 
chimney, 

"  Thou  hast  no  doubt  accomplished  a  great 
work,  Father  Hennepin,"  he  said,  with  the  im- 


84  THE  STORY  OF  TON  TV. 

mediate  benevolence  a  man  feels  toward  one 
who  has  reached  his  point  of  view.  "  When  I 
have  had  supper  with  my  daughter  I  will  sit 
down  here  and  beg  you  to  tell  me  all  that  be 
fell  your  wanderings,  and  what  savages  they 
were  who  received  the  faith  at  your  hands,  and 
how  the  Sieur  de  la  Salle  hath  turned  even  a 
Recollet  Father  against  himself." 

"  Perhaps  Father  Hennepin  will  tell  about  his 
buffalo  hunt,"  suggested  the  sergeant  of  the 
fortress,  "  and  how  he  headed  a  wounded  buffalo 
from  flight  and  drove  it  back  to  be  shot."  1 

Father  Hennepin  looked  down  at  patches  of 
buffalo  hide  which  covered  holes  in  his  habit. 
He  remembered  the  trampling  of  a  furious 
beast's  hoofs  and  the  twitch  of  its  short  sharp 
horn  in  his  folds  of  flesh  as  it  lifted  him.  He 
remembered  his  wounds  and  the  soreness  of 
his  bones  which  lasted  for  months,  yet  his  lips 
parted  over  happy  teeth  and  he  roared  with 
laughter. 

1  In  reality  this  was  Father  Membre's  adventure. 


III. 

HEAVEN    AND    EARTH. 

JEANNE  LE  BER  sat  down  upon  a  high- 
J  backed  bench  before  the  fire  in  the  upper 
room.  This  apartment  was  furnished  and  deco 
rated  only  by  abundant  firelight,  which  danced 
on  stone  walls  and  hard  dark  rafters,  on  rough 
floor  and  high  enclosure  of  the  stairway.  At 
opposite  sides  of  the  room  were  doors  which 
Jeanne  did  not  know  opened  into  chambers 
scarcely  larger  than  the  sleepers  who  might 
lodge  therein. 

She  sat  in  strained  thought,  without  unwrap 
ping  herself,  though  shudders  were  sent  through 
her  by  damp  raiment.  When  her  father  came 
up  with  the  sergeant  who  carried  their  supper, 
he  took  off  her  cloak,  smoothed  her  hair,  and 
tenderly  reproved  her.  He  set  the  dishes  on 
the  bench  between  them,  and  persuaded  Jeanne 
to  eat  what  he  carved  for  her,  —  a  swarthy  nurse 
whose  solicitude  astounded  the  soldier. 


88  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

Another  man  came  up  and  opened  the  door 
nearest  the  chimney,  on  that  side  which  over 
looked  the  fortress  enclosure.  He  paused  in 
descending,  loaded  with  the  commandant's  pos 
sessions,  to  say  that  this  bedroom  was  designed 
for  mademoiselle,  and  was  now  ready. 

"  And  thou  must  get  to  it  as  soon  as  the  river's 
chill  is  warmed  out  of  thy  bones,"  said  Le  Ber. 
"  I  will  sit  and  hear  the  worthy  friar  downstairs 
tell  his  strange  adventures.  The  sound  of  your 
voice  can  reach  me  with  no  effort  whatever.  My 
bedroom  will  be  next  yours,  or  near  by,  and  no 
harm  can  befall  you  in  Fort  Frontenac." 

Jeanne  kissed  his  cheek  before  he  returned  to 
the  lower  room,  and  when  the  supper  was  re 
moved  she  sat  drying  herself  by  the  fire. 

The  eager  piety  of  her  early  girlhood,  which 
was  almost  fantastic  in  its  expression,  had  yet 
worked  out  a  nobly  spiritual  face.  She  was  a 
beautiful  saint. 

For  several  years  Jeanne  le  Ber  had  refused 
the  ordinary  clothing  of  women.  Her  visible 
garment  was  made  of  a  soft  fine  blanket  of  white 
wool,  with  long  sleeves  falling  nearly  to  her  feet. 
It  was  girded  to  her  waist  by  a  cord  from  which 
hung  her  rosary.  Her  neck  stood  slim  and 


HEAVEN  AND  EARTH.  89 

white  above  the  top  of  this  robe,  without  orna 
ment  except  the  peaked  monk's  hood  which 
hung  behind  it. 

This  creature  like  a  flame  of  living  white  fire 
stood  up  and  turned  her  back  to  the  ruddier 
logs,  and  clasped  her  hands  across  the  top  of 
her  head.  Her  eyes  wasted  scintillations  on 
rafters  while  she  waited  for  heavenly  peace  to 
calm  the  strong  excitement  driving  her. 

The  door  of  Jeanne's  chamber  stood  open  as 
the  soldier  had  left  it.  At  the  opposite  side  of  the 
room  a  similar  door  opened,  and  La  Salle  came 
out.  He  moved  a  step  toward  the  hearth,  but 
stopped,  and  the  pallor  of  a  swoon  filled  his  face. 

"  Sieur  de  la  Salle,"  said  Jeanne  in  a  whisper. 
She  let  her  arms  slip  down  by  her  sides.  The 
eccentric  robe  with  its  background  of  firelight 
cast  her  up  tall  and  white  before  his  eyes. 

In  the  explorer's  most  successful  moments  he 
had  never  appeared  so  majestic.  Though  his 
dress  was  tarnished  by  the  wilderness,  he  had  it 
carefully  arranged ;  for  he  liked  to  feel  it  fitting 
him  with  an  exactness  which  would  not  annoy 
his  thoughts. 

No  formal  greeting  preluded  the  crash  of  this 
encounter  between  La  Salle  and  Jeanne  le  Ber. 


90  THE   STORY  OF   TONTY. 

What  had  lain  repressed  by  prayer  and  penance, 
or  had  been  trodden  down  league  by  league  in 
the  wilds,  leaped  out  with  strength  made  mighty 
by  such  repression. 

Voices  in  loud  and  merry  conversation  below 
and  occasional  laughter  came  up  the  open  stair 
way  and  made  accompaniment  to  this  half-hushed 
duet. 

"  Jeanne,"  stammered  La  Salle. 

"  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  I  was  just  going  to  my 
room." 

She  moved  away  from  him  to  the  side  of  the 
hearth,  as  he  advanced  and  sat  down  upon  the 
bench.  Unconscious  that  she  stood  while  he 
was  sitting,  as  if  overcome  by  sudden  blindness 
he  reached  toward  her  with  a  groping  gesture. 

"  Take  hold  of  my  hand,  Sainte  Jeanne." 

"  And  if  I  take  hold  of  your  hand,  Sieur  de  la 
Salle,"  murmured  the  girl,  bending  toward  him 
though  she  held  her  arms  at  her  sides,  "what 
profit  will  it  be  to  either  of  us?  " 

"  I  beg  that  you  will  take  hold  of  my  hand." 

Her  hand,  quivering  to  each  finger  tip,  moved 
out  and  met  and  was  clasped  in  his.  La  Salle's 
head  dropped  on  his  breast. 

Jeanne    turned    away   her   face.      Voices    and 


HE  A  VEN  A  .\  'D  EA  R  TH.  9 1 

laughter  jangled  in  the  room  below.  In  this 
silent  room  pulse  answered  pulse,  and  with  slow 
encounter  eyes  answered  the  adoration  of  eyes. 
In  terror  of  herself  Jeanne  uttered  the  whispered 
cry,  — 

"  I  am  afraid  !  " 

She  veiled  herself  with  the  long  sleeve  of  her 
robe. 

"  And  of  what  should  you  be  afraid  when  we 
are  thus  near  together?"  said  La  Salle.  ''The 
thing  to  be  afraid  of  is  losing  this.  Such  glad 
ness  has  been  long  coming;  for  I  was  a  man 
when  you  were  born,  Sainte  Jeanne." 

"  Let  go  my  hand,  Sieur  de  la  Salle." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  let  it  go,  Sainte  Jeanne?  " 

"  No,  Sieur  de  la  Salle." 

Dropping  her  sleeve  Jeanne  faced  heaven 
through  the  rafters.  Tears  stormed  down  her 
face,  and  her  white  throat  swelled  with  strong 
repressed  sobs.  Like  some  angel  caught  in  a 
snare,  she  whispered  her  up-directed  wail,  - 

"  All  my  enormity  must  now  be  confessed ! 
Whenever  Sieur  de  la  Salle  has  been  assailed 
my  soul  rose  up  in  arms  for  him.  Oh,  my  poor 
father !  So  dear  has  Sieur  de  la  Salle  been  to 
me  that  I  hated  the  hatred  of  my  father.  What 


92  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

shall  I  do  to  tear  out  this  awful  love?  I  have 
fought  it  through  midnights  and  solitary  days  of 
ceaseless  prayer.  Oh,  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  why  art 
thou  such  a  man?  Pray  to  God  and  invoke 
the  saints  for  me,  and  help  me  to  go  free  from 
this  love !  " 

"  Jeanne,"  said  La  Salle,  "  you  are  so  holy  I 
dare  touch  no  more  than  this  sweet  hand.  It 
fills  me  with  life.  Ask  me  not  to  pray  to  God 
that  he  will  take  the  life  from  me.  Oh,  Jeanne, 
if  you  could  reach  out  of  your  eternity  of  devo 
tion  and  hold  me  always  by  the  hand,  what  a 
man  I  might  be !  " 

She  dropped  her  eyes  to  his  face,  saying  like 
a  soothing  mother,  - 

"  Thou  greatest  and  dearest,  there  is  a  gulf 
between  us  which  we  cannot  pass.  I  am  vowed 
to  Heaven.  Thou  art  vowed  to  great  enterprises. 
The  life  of  the  family  is  not  for  us.  If  God 
showed  me  my  way  by  thy  side  I  would  go 
through  any  wilderness.  But  Jeanne  was  made 
to  listen  in  prayer  and  silence  and  secrecy  and 
anguish  for  the  word  of  Heaven.  The  worst 
is,"  •  -  her  stormy  sob  again  shook  her  from  head 
to  foot,  — "  you  will  be  at  court,  and  beautiful 
women  will  love  the  great  explorer.  And  one 


HEAVEN  AND  EARTH.  93 

will  shine ;  she  will  be  set  like  a  star  as  high  as 
the  height  of  being  your  wife.  And  Jeanne,  — 
oh,  Jeanne !  here  in  this  rough,  new  world,  — 
she  must  eternally  learn  to  be  nothing !  " 

"  My  wife !  "  said  La  Salle,  turning  her  hand 
in  his  clasp,  and  laying  his  cheek  in  her  palm. 
"  You  are  my  wife.  There  is  no  court.  There  is 
no  world  to  discover.  There  is  only  the  sweet, 
the  rose-tender  palm  of  my  wife  where  I  can  lay 
my  tired  cheek  and  rest." 

Jeanne's  fingers  moved  with  involuntary  ca 
ressing  along  the  lowest  curve  of  his  face. 

An  ember  fell  on  the  hearth  beside  them,  and 
Father  Hennepin  emphasized  some  point  in  his 
relation  with  a  stamp  of  his  foot. 

"You  left  a  glove  at  my  father's  house,  Sieur 
de  la  Salle,  and  I  hid  it;  I  put  my  face  to  it. 
And  when  I  burned  it,  my  own  blood  seemed  to 
ooze  out  of  that  crisping  glove." 

La  Salle  trembled.  The  dumb  and  solitary 
man  was  dumb  and  solitary  in  his  love. 

"  Now  we  must  part,"  breathed  Jeanne. 
"  Heaven  is  strangely  merciful  to  sinners.  I 
never  could  name  you  to  my  confessor  or  show 
him  this  formless  anguish;  but  now  that  it  has 
been  owned  and  cast  out,  my  heart  is  glad." 


94  THE  STOA'Y  OF   TONTY. 

La  Salle  rose  up  and  stood  by  the  hearth.  As 
she  drew  her  hand  from  his  continued  hold  he 
opened  his  arms.  Jeanne  stepped  backward, 
her  eyes  swarming  with  motes  of  light.  She 
turned  and  reached  her  chamber  door ;  but  as 
the  saint  receded  from  temptation  the  woman 
rose  in  strength.  She  ran  to  La  Salle,  and  with 
a  tremor  and  a  sob  in  his  arms,  met  his  mouth 
with  the  one  kiss  of  her  life.  As  suddenly  she 
ran  from  him  and  left  him. 

La  Salle  had  had  his  sublime  moment  of 
standing  at  the  centre  of  the  universe  and  seeing 
all  things  swing  around  him,  which  comes  to 
every  one  successful  in  embodying  a  vast  idea. 
But  from  this  height  he  looked  down  at  that 
experience. 

He  stood  still  after  Jeanne's  door  closed  until 
he  felt  his  own  intrusion.  This  drove  him  down 
stairs  and  out  of  the  house,  regardless  of  Jacques 
le  Ber,  Father  Hennepin,  and  the  officers  of  the 
fortress,  who  turned  to  gaze  at  his  transit. 

Proud  satisfaction,  strange  in  a  ruined  man, 
appeared  on  the  explorer's  face.  He  felt  his 
reverses  as  cobwebs  to  be  brushed  away.  He 
was  loved.  The  king  had  been  turned  against 
him.  His  enemies  had  procured  Count  Fronte- 


HEAVEN  AND   EARTH.  95 

nac's  removal,  and  La  Barre  the  new  governor, 
conspiring  to  seize  his  estate,  had  ruined  his 
credit.  But  he  was  loved.  Even  on  this  home 
ward  journey  an  officer  had  passed  him  with 
authority  to  take  possession  of  his  new  post  on 
the  Illinois  River.  His  discoveries  were  doubted 
and  sneered  at,  as  well  as  half  claimed  by  boast 
ing  subordinates,  who  knew  nothing  about  his 
greater  views.  Yet  the  only  softener  of  this  man 
of  noble  granite  was  a  spirit-like  girl,  who  re 
garded  the  love  of  her  womanhood  as  sin. 

La  Salle  stood  in  the  midst  of  enemies.  He 
stood  considering  merely  how  his  will  should 
break  down  the  religious  walls  Jeanne  built 
around  herself,  and  how  Jacques  le  Ber  might 
be  conciliated  by  shares  in  the  profits  of  the 
West.  Behind  stretched  his  shadowed  life,  full 
of  misfortune ;  good  was  held  out  to  him  to  be 
withdrawn  at  the  touch  of  his  fingers.  But  this 
good  he  determined  to  have;  and  thinking  of 
her,  La  Salle  walked  the  stiffened  frost-crisp 
ground  of  the  fortress  half  the  night. 


IV. 

A   CANOE   FROM   THE    ILLINOIS. 

\T  7  HEN  Barbe  Cavelier  awoke  next  morn 
ing  and  saw  around  her  the  stone  walls 
of  Fort  Frontenac  instead  of  a  familiar  convent 
enclosure,  she  sat  up  in  her  bed  and  laughed 
aloud.  The  tiny  cell  echoed.  Never  before  had 
laughter  of  young  girl  been  heard  there.  And 
when  she  placed  her  feet  upon  the  floor  per 
haps  their  neat  and  exact  pressure  was  a  surprise 
to  battered  planks  used  to  the  smiting  tread 
of  men. 

Barbe  proceeded  to  dress  herself,  with  those 
many  curvings  of  neck  and  figure,  which,  in  any 
age,  seem  necessary  to  the  fit  sitting  of  a  young 
maid  in  her  garments.  Her  aquiline  face  glowed, 
full  of  ardent  life. 

Some  raindrops  struck  the  roof-window  and 
ran  down  its  panes  like  tears.  When  Barbe  had 
considered  her  astounding  position  as  the  only 
woman  in  Fort  Frontenac,  and  felt  well  com- 


A    CANOE  FROM  THE  ILLINOIS.  97 

pacted  for  farther  adventures,  she  sprung  upon 
the  bunk,  and  stood  with  her  head  near  the  roof, 
looking  out  into  the  fortress  and  its  adjacent 
world.  Among  moving  figures  she  could  not 
discern  her  uncle  La  Salle,  or  her  uncle  the 
Abbe,  or  even  her  brother.  These  three  must 
be  yet  in  the  officers'  house.  Dull  clouds  were 
scudding.  As  Barbe  opened  the  sash  and  put 
her  head  out  the  morning  air  met  her  with  a 
chill.  Fort  Frontenac's  great  walls  half  hid  an 
autumn  forest,  crowding  the  lake's  distant  border 
in  measureless  expanse  of  sad  foliage.  East 
ward,  she  caught  ghostly  hints  of  islands  on 
misty  water.  The  day  was  full  of  depression. 
Ontario  stood  up  against  the  sky,  a  pale  green 
ish  fleece,  raked  at  intervals  by  long  wires  of 
rain. 

But  such  influences  had  no  effect  on  a  healthy 
warm  young  creature,  freed  unaccountably  from 
her  convent,  and  brought  on  a  perilous,  delight 
ful  journey  to  so  strange  a  part  of  her  world. 

She  noticed  a  parley  going  forward  at  the 
gate.  Some  outsider  demanded  entrance,  for 
the  sentry  disappeared  between  the  towers  and 
returned  for  orders.  He  approached  the  com 
mandant  who  stood  talking  with  Jacques  le 


98  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

Ber,  the  merchant  of  Montreal.  Barbe  could 
see  Le  Ber's  face  darken.  With  shrugs  and 
negative  gestures  he  decided  against  the  new 
comer,  and  the  sentinel  again  disappeared  to 
refuse  admission.  She  wondered  if  a  band  of 
Iroquois  waited  outside.  Among  Abbe  Cave- 
lier's  complaints  of  La  Salle  was  Governor  la 
Barre's  accusation  that  La  Salle  stirred  enmity 
in  the  Iroquois  by  protecting  the  Illinois  tribe 
they  wished  to  exterminate. 

"  Even  these  Indians  on  the  lake  shore,"  medi 
tated  Barbe,  "  who  settled  there  out  of  friendship 
to  my  uncle  La  Salle,  may  turn  against  him  and 
try  to  harm  him  as  every  one  does  now  that  his 
fortunes  are  low.  I  would  be  a  man  faithful  to 
my  friend,  if  I  were  a  man  at  all." 

She  watched  for  a  sight  of  the  withdrawing 
party  on  the  lake,  and  presently  a  large  canoe 
holding  three  men  shot  out  beyond  the  walls. 
One  stood  erect,  gazing  back  at  the  fort  with 
evident  anxiety.  Neither  the  smearing  medium 
of  damp  weather  nor  increasing  distance  could 
rob  Barbe  of  that  man's  identity.  His  large 
presence,  his  singular  carriage  of  the  right  arm, 
even  his  features  sinking  back  to  space,  stamped 
him  Henri  de  Tonty. 


A    CANOE   FROM   THE   ILLINOIS. 


99 


"  He  has  come  here  to  see  my  uncle  La  Salle, 
and  they  have  refused  to  let  him  enter,"  she 
exclaimed  aloud. 

Stripping  a  coverlet  from  her  berth  she 
whipped  the  outside  air  with  it  until  the  crackle 
brought  up  a  challenge  from  below. 


Fort  Frontenac  was  a  seignorial  rather  than  a 
military  post,  and  its  discipline  had  been  lax 
since  the  governor's  Associates  seized  it,  yet  a 
sentinel  paced  this  morning  before  the  officers' 
quarters.  When  he  saw  the  signal  withdrawn 
and  a  lovely  face  with  dark  eyelashes  and  a 


100  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

topknot  of  curls  looking  down  at  him,  he  could 
do  nothing  but  salute  it,  and  Barbe  shut  her 
window. 

Dropping  in  excitement  from  the  bunk,  she 
ran  across  the  upper  room  to  knock  at  La 
Salle's  door. 

A  boy  stood  basking  in  solitude  by  the 
chimney. 

Her  uncle  La  Salle's  apartment  seemed  filled 
with  one  strong  indignant  voice,  leaking  through 
crevices  and  betraying  its  matter  to  the  com 
mon  hall. 

"  You  may  knock  there  until  you  faint  of 
hunger,"  remarked  the  lad  at  the  hearth.  "  I 
also  want  my  breakfast,  but  these  precious  Asso 
ciates  will  let  us  starve  in  the  fort  they  have 
stolen  before  they  dole  us  out  any  food.  I 
would  not  mind  going  into  the  barracks  and 
messing,  but  I  have  you  also  to  consider." 

"  It  is  not  anything  to  eat,  Colin  —  it  is  press 
ing  need  of  my  uncle  La  Salle  !  " 

"  The  Abbe  has  pressing  need  of  our  uncle 
La  Salle.  It  was  great  relief  to  catch  him  here 
at  Frontenac.  I  have  heard  every  bit  of  the 
lecture :  what  amounts  our  uncle  the  Abbe  has 
ventured  in  western  explorations;  and  what  a 


A    CANOE  FROM  XI1£ 

fruitless  journey  he  has  made  here  to  rescue  for 
himself  some  of  the  stores  of  this  fortress;  and 
what  danger  all  we  Caveliers  stand  in  of  being 
poisoned  on  account  of  my  uncle  La  Salle,  so 
that  the  Abbe  can  scarce  trust  us  out  of  his 
sight,  even  with  nuns  guarding  you." 

To  Barbe's  continued  knocking  her  guardian 
made  the  curtest  reply.  He  opened  the  door, 
looked  at  her  sternly,  saying,  "  Go  away,  made 
moiselle,"  and  shut  it  tightly  again. 

She  ran  back  to  her  lookout  and  was  able 
to  discern  the  same  canoe  moving  off  on  the 
lake. 

"  Colin,"  demanded  Barbe,  wrapping  herself, 
''  You  must  run  with  me." 

"  Certainly,  mademoiselle,  and  I  trust  you  are 
making  haste  toward  a  table." 

"  We  must  run  outside  the  fortress." 

Though  the  boy  felt  it  a  grievance  that  he 
should  follow  instead  of  lead  to  any  adventure, 
he  dashed  heartily  out  with  her,  intending  to 
take  his  place  when  he  understood  the  action. 
Rain  charged  full  in  their  faces.  The  sentry 
was  inclined  to  hold  them  at  the  fortress  gate 
until  he  had  orders,  and  Barbe's  impatience 
darted  from  her  eyes. 


102:  i/i  '•'.'. ''7^  STGRY  OF  TONTY. 

"You  will  get  me  into  trouble,"  he  said. 
"This  gate  has  been  swinging  over-much 

lately." 

"Let  us  out,"  persuaded  Colin.  "The  Asso 
ciates  will  not  care  what  becomes  of  a  couple 
of  Caveliers." 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"My  sister  wishes  to  run  to  the  Iroquois 
village,"  responded  Colin,  "  and  beg  there  for 
a  little  sagamite.  We  get  nothing  to  eat  in  Fort 
Frontenac." 

The  soldier  laughed. 

"  If  you  are  going  to  the  Iroquois  village 
why  don't  you  say  your  errand  is  to  Catharine 
Tegahkouita?  It  is  no  sin  to  ask  an  Indian 
saint's  prayers." 

Barbe  formed  her  lips  to  inquire,  "  Has  Tegah 
kouita  come  to  Fort  Frontenac?"  But  this  im 
pulse  passed  into  discreet  silence,  and  the  man 
let  them  out. 

They  ran  along  the  palisades  southward,  Barbe 
keeping  abreast  of  Colin  though  she  made  skim 
ming  dips  as  the  swallow  flies,  and  with  a  detour 
quite  to  the  lake's  verge,  avoided  the  foundation 
of  an  outwork. 

Father    Hennepin's    cross    stood   up,    a    huge 


A    CANOE  FROM  THE  ILLINOIS.  103 

white  landmark  between  habitant  settlement  on 
the  lake,  and  Indian  village  farther  west  but 
visible  through  the  clearing.  Ontario  seemed 
to  rise  higher  and  top  the  world,  its  green 
curves  breaking  at  their  extremities  into  white 
spatter,  the  one  boat  in  sight  making  deep 
obeisance  to  heaving  water. 

"  Do  you  see  a  canoe  riding  yonder?"  ex 
claimed  Barbe  to  Colin,  as  they  ran  along  wet 
sand. 

"  Any  one  may  see  a  canoe  riding  yonder. 
Was  it  to  race  with  that  canoe  we  came  out, 
mademoiselle?" 

"  Wave  your  arms  and  make  signals  to  the 
men  in  it,  Colin.  They  must  be  stopped.  I 
am  sure  that  one  is  Monsieur  de  Tonty,  and 
they  were  turned  away  from  the  fortress  gate. 
They  have  business  with  our  uncle  La  Salle, 
and  see  how  far  they  have  gone  before  we 
could  get  out  ourselves!" 

"Why,  then,  did  you  follow?"  demanded  her 
brother,  waving  his  arms  and  flinging  his  cap  in 
the  rain.  "  They  may  have  business  with  our 
uncle  La  Salle,  but  they  have  no  business  with 
a  girl.  This  was  quite  my  affair,  Mademoiselle 
Cavelier." 


104  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

A  maid  whose  feet  were  heavy  with  the  mud  of 
a  once  ploughed  clearing  could  say  little  in  praise 
of  such  floundering.  She  paid  no  attention  to 
Colin's  rebuke,  but  watched  for  the  canoe  to  turn 
landward.  Satisfied  that  it  was  heading  toward 
them,  Barbe  withdrew  from  the  border  of  the 
lake.  She  would  not  shelter  herself  in  any 
deserted  hut  of  the  habitant  village.  Colin 
followed  her  in  vexation  to  Father  Hennepin's 
mission  house,  remonstrating  as  he  skipped,  and 
turning  to  watch  the  canoe  with  rain  beating  his 
face. 

They  found  the  door  open.  The  floor  was 
covered  with  sand  blown  there,  and  small  stones 
cast  by  the  hands  of  irreverent  passing  Indian 
boys.  The  chapel  stood  a  few  yards  away,  but 
this  whole  small  settlement  was  dominated  by 
its  cross.1 

Barbe  and  Colin  were  scarcely  under  this 
roof  shelter  before  Tonty  strode  up  to  the  door. 
He  took  off  his  hat  with  the  left  hand,  his 
dark  face  bearing  the  rain  like  a  hardy  flower. 
Dangers,  perpetual  immersion  in  Nature,  and  the 

"  He  (La  Salle)  gave  us  a  piece  of  ground  15  arpents  in 
front  by  20  deep,  the  donation  being  accepted  by  Monsieur  de 
PVontenac,  syndic  of  our  mission."  From  Le  Clerc. 


A    CANOE  FROM    THE  ILLINOIS.  105 

stimulus  of  vast  undertakings  had  so  matured 
Tonty  that  Barbe  felt  more  awe  of  his  buckskin 
presence  than  her  memory  of  the  fine  young 
soldier  in  Montreal  could  warrant.  She  wanted 
to  look  at  him  and  say  nothing.  Colin,  who 
knew  this  soldier  only  by  reputation,  was  eager 
to  meet  and  urge  him  into  Father  Hennepin's 
house. 

Tonty's  reluctant  step  crunched  sand  on  the 
boards.  He  kept  his  gaze  upon  Barbe  and 
inquired,  — 

"  Have  I  the  honor,  mademoiselle,  to  address 
the  niece  of  Monsieur  de  la  Salle?" 

"  The  niece  and  nephew  of  Monsieur  de  la 
Salle,"  put  forth  Colin. 

"  Yes,  monsieur.  You  may  remember  me 
as  the  young  tiger-cat  who  sprung  upon  my 
uncle  La  Salle  when  you  arrived  with  him  from 
France." 

"  I  never  forgot  you,  mademoiselle.  You  so 
much  resemble  Monsieur  de  la  Salle." 

"  It  is  on  his  account  we  have  run  out  of 
the  fort  to  stop  you.  He  does  not  know  you 
are  here.  I  saw  the  sentinel  close  the  gate 
against  some  one,  and  afterward  your  boat 
pushed  out." 


106  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

"And  did  you  shake  a  signal  from  an  upper 
window  in  the  fort?  " 

"  Monsieur,  I  could  not  be  sure  that  you  saw 
it,  though  I  could  see  your  boat." 

"  She  made  it  very  much  her  affair,"  observed 
Colin,  with  the  merciless  disapproval  of  a  lad. 
"  Monsieur  de  Tonty,  there  was  no  use  in  her 
trampling  through  sand  and  rain  like  a  Huron 
witch  going  to  some  herb  gathering.  It  was 
my  business  to  do  the  errand  of  my  uncle 
La  Salle.  When  she  goes  back  she  will  get 
a  lecture  and  a  penance,  for  all  her  sixteen 
years." 

"  Mademoiselle,"  said  Tonty,  "  I  am  distressed 
if  my  withdrawal  from  Fort  Frontenac  causes 
you  trouble.  I  meant  to  camp  here.  I  was 
determined  to  see  Monsieur  de  la  Salle." 

"  Monsieur,"  courageously  replied  Barbe,  "you 
cause  me  no  trouble  at  all.  I  thought  you  were 
returning  to  your  fort  on  the  Illinois.  I  did  not 
stop  to  tell  my  brother,  but  made  him  run  with 
me.  It  is  a  shame  that  the  enemies  of  my  uncle 
La  Salle  hold  you  out  of  Fort  Frontenac." 

"  But  very  little  would  you  get  to  eat  there," 
consoled  young  Cavelier.  "  We  have  had  noth 
ing  to  break  our  fast  on  this  morning." 


A    CANOE   FROM   THE  ILLINOIS.  IO/ 

"  Then  let  us  get  ready  some  breakfast  for 
you/'  proposed  Tonty,  as  his  men  entered  with 
the  lading  of  the  canoe.  They  had  stopped  at 
the  doorstep,  but  Father  Hennepin's  hewed  log 
house  contained  two  rooms,  and  he  pointed  them 
to  the  inner  one.  There  they  let  down  their 
loads,  one  man,  a  surgeon,  remaining,  and  the 
other,  a  canoeman,  going  out  again  in  search  of 
fuel. 

"  Monsieur,  it  would  be  better  for  us  to 
hurry  back  to  the  fortress  and  call  my  uncle 
La  Salle." 

"  Nothing  will  satisfy  you,  mademoiselle,"  de 
nounced  Colin.  "  Out  you  must  come  to  stop 
Monsieur  de  Tonty.  Now  back  you  must  go 
through  weather  which  is  not  fitting  for  any 
demoiselle  to  face." 

"  Mademoiselle,"  said  Tonty,  "  if  you  return 
now  it  will  be  my  duty  to  escort  you  as  far 
as  the  fortress  gate." 

Barbe  drew  her  wrappings  over  her  face,  as  he 
had  seen  a  wild  sensitive  plant  fold  its  leaves  and 
close  its  cups. 

"  I  will  retire  to  the  chapel  and  wait  there  until 
my  uncle  La  Salle  comes,"  she  decided,  "and 
my  brother  must  run  to  call  him." 


108  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY, 

'•'  You  may  take  to  sanctuary  as  soon  as  you 
please,"  responded  Colin,  "  and  I  will  attend  to 
my  uncle  La  Salle's  business.  But  the  first 
call  I  make  shall  be  upon  the  cook  in  this 
camp." 


V. 

FATHER   HENNEPIN'S    CHAPEL. 

'T^ONTY  held  a  buffalo  robe  over  Barbe  during 
•*•  her  quick  transit  from  cabin  to  church.  Its 
tanned  side  was  toward  the  weather,  and  its 
woolly  side  continued  to  comfort  her  after  she 
was  under  shelter.  Tonty  bestowed  it  around 
her  and  closed  the  door  again,  leaving  her  in  the 
dim  place. 

Father  Hennepin's  deserted  chapel  was  of 
hewed  logs  like  his  dwelling.  A  rude  altar  re 
mained,  but  without  any  ornaments,  for  the  Re- 
collet  had  carried  these  away  to  his  western 
mission.  Some  unpainted  benches  stood  in  a 
row.  The  roof  could  be  seen  through  rafters, 
and  drops  of  rain  with  reiterating  taps  fell  along 
the  centre  of  the  floor.  A  chimney  of  stones 
and  cement  was  built  outside  the  chapel,  of  such 
a  size  that  its  top  yawned  like  an  open  cell  for 
rain,  snow,  or  summer  sunshine.  Within,  it 
spread  a  generous  hearth  and  an  expanse  of 


110  THE  STORY  OF  TON  TV. 

grayish  fire-wall  little  marked  by  the  blue  incense 
which  rises  from  burning  wood. 

Barbe  looked  briefly  around  the  chapel.  She 
laid  the  buffalo  hide  before  the  altar  and  knelt 
upon  it. 

Tonty  returned  with  a  load  of  fuel  and  busied 
himself  at  the  fireplace.  The  boom  of  the  lake, 
and  his  careful  stirring  and  adjusting  in  ancient 
ashes,  made  a  background  to  her  silence.  Yet 
she  heard  through  her  devotions  every  move 
ment  he  made,  and  the  low  whoop  peculiar  to 
flame  when  it  leaps  to  existence  and  seizes  its 
prey. 

A  torrent  of  fire  soon  poured  up  the  flue. 
Tonty  grasped  a  brush  made  of  wood  shavings, 
remnant  of  Father  Hennepin's  housekeeping, 
and  whirled  dust  and  litter  in  the  masculine 
fashion.  When  he  left  the  chapel  it  glowed  with 
the  resurrected  welcome  it  had  given  many  a 
primitive  congregation  of  Indians  and  French 
settlers,  when  the  lake  beat  up  icy  winter  foam. 

Beside  the  fireplace  was  a  window  so  high  that 
its  log  sill  met  Barbe's  chin  as  she  looked  out. 
Jutting  roof  and  outer  chimney  wall  made  a  snug 
spot  like  a  sentry-box  without.  She  dried  her 
feet,  holding  them  one  at  a  time  to  the  red  hot 


FATHER   HENNE PIN'S   CHAPEL. 


Ill 


t 


glow,  and  glanced 
through  this  window  at 
the  mission  house's  sod 
den  logs  and  crumbled 
chinking.  The  excite 
ment  of  her  sally  out 
of  Fort  Frontenac  died 
away.  She  felt  dis 
tressed  because  she  had 
come,  and  faint  for  her 
early  convent  breakfast. 

She  saw  Tonty  through  the  window  carrying 
a  dish  carefully  covered.  He  approached  the 
broken  pane,  and  Barbe  eagerly  helped  him  to 


I  1 2  THE  STOR  Y  OF  TONTY. 

unfasten  the  sash  and  swing  it  out.  In  doing 
this,  Tonty  held  her  platter  braced  by  his  iron- 
handed  arm. 

The  fare  was  passed  in  to  her  without  apology, 
and  she  received  it  with  sincere  gratitude,  after 
ward  drawing  a  bench  near  the  fire  and  sitting 
down  in  great  privacy  and  comfort. 

The  moccasins  of  a  frontiersman  could  make 
no  sound  above  flap  of  wind  and  pat  of  water. 
Tonty  paced  from  window  to  chapel  front,  be 
lieving  that  he  kept  out  of  Barbe's  sight.  But 
after  an  interval  he  was  amused  to  see,  rising  over 
the  sill  within,  a  topknot  of  curls,  and  eyes  filled 
with  the  alert,  shy  spirit  of  the  deer  whose  flesh 
she  had  just  eaten. 

For  some  reason  this  scrutiny  of  Barbe's  made 
him  regret  that  he  had  lain  aside  the  gold  and 
white  uniform  of  France,  and  the  extreme  uses 
to  which  his  gauntlets  had  been  put.  Entrenched 
behind  logs  she  unconsciously  poured  the  fires 
of  her  youth  upon  Tonty. 

Not  only  was  one  pane  in  the  sash  gone,  but 
all  were  shattered,  giving  easy  access  to  his  voice 
as  he  stood  still  and  explained. 

"Frontenac  is  a  lonely  post,  mademoiselle. 
It  is  necessary  for  you  to  have  a  sentinel." 


FATHER  HEKA^EPIAr'S   CHAPEL.  113 

"  Yes,  monsieur;  you  are  very  good."  Barbe 
accepted  the  fact  with  lowered  eyelids.  "  Has 
my  brother  yet  gone  to  call  my  uncle  La 
Salle?" 

"Yes,  mademoiselle.  As  soon  as  we  could 
give  him  some  breakfast  he  set  out." 

"  Colin  is  a  gourmand.  All  very  young  people 
gormandize  more  or  less,"  remarked  Barbe,  with 
a  sense  of  emancipation  from  the  class  she 
condemned. 

"  I  hope  you  could  eat  what  I  brought  you?  " 

"  It  was  quite  delicious,  monsieur.  I  ate  every 
bit  of  it." 

The  boom  of  the  lake  intruded  between  their 
voices.  Barbe's  black  eyelashes  flickered  sensi 
tively  upon  her  cheeks,  and  Tonty,  feeling  that 
he  looked  too  steadily  at  her,  dropped  his  eyes 
to  his  folded  arms. 

"  Monsieur  de  Tonty,"  inquired  Barbe,  appeal 
ing  to  experience,  "  do  you  think  sixteen  years 
very  young?" 

"  It  is  the  most  charming  age  in  the  world, 
mademoiselle." 

"Monsieur,  I  mean  young  for  maturing  one's 
plan  of  life." 

"  That    depends    upon    the    person,"    replied 


114  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

Tonty.  "  At  sixteen  I  was  revolting  against  the 
tyranny  which  choked  Italy.  And  I  was  an 
exile  from  my  country  before  the  age  of  twenty, 
mademoiselle." 

Barbe  gazed  straight  at  Tonty,  her  gray  eyes 
firing  like  opals  with  enthusiasm. 

"  And  my  uncle  La  Salle  at  sixteen  was  al 
ready  planning  his  discoveries.  Monsieur,  I  also 
have  my  plans.  Many  missionaries  must  be 
needed  among  the  Indians." 

"  You  do  not  propose  going  as  a  missionary 
among  the  Indians,  mademoiselle?" 

Barbe  critically  examined  his  smile.  She 
evaded  his  query. 

"  Are  the  Indian  women  beautiful,  Monsieur 
de  Tonty?" 

"They  do  not  appear  so  to  me,  mademoiselle, 
though  the  Illinois  are  a  straight  and  well-made 


'& 

race. 


"  You  must  find  it  a  grand  thing  to  range  that 
western  country." 

"  But  in  the  midst  of  our  grandeur  the  Iroquois 
threaten  us  even  there.  How  would  mademoi 
selle  like  to  mediate  between  these  invaders  and 
the  timid  Illinois,  suspected  by  one  tribe  and 
threatened  by  the  other;  to  carry  the  wampum 


FATHER  HENNEPIN'S   CHAPEL.  115 

belt  of  peace  on  the  open  field  between  two 
armies,  and  for  your  pains  get  your  scalp-lock 
around  the  fingers  of  a  Seneca  chief  and  his 
dagger  into  your  side?" 

"  Oh,  monsieur !  "  whispered  Barbe,  flushing 
with  the  wild  pinkness  of  roses  on  the  plains, 
"  what  amusements  you  do  have  in  the  great 
west !  And  is  it  a  castle  on  a  mountain,  that 
Fort  St.  Louis  of  the  Illinois?  " 

"  A  stockade  on  a  cliff,  mademoiselle." 

Tonty  felt  impelled  to  put  himself  nearer  this 
delicate  head  set  with  fine  small  ears  and  quar 
tered  by  the  angles  of  the  window-frame.  When 
she  meditated,  her  lashes  and  brows  and  aqui 
line  curves  and  gray  tones  flushing  to  rose  were 
delightful  to  a  wilderness-saturated  man.  But  he 
held  to  his  strict  position  as  sentinel. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Barbe,  "  there  is  something 
on  my  mind  which  I  will  tell  you.  I  was  think 
ing  of  the  new  world  my  uncle  La  Salle  discov 
ered,  even  before  you  came  to  Montreal.  Now  I 
think  constantly  of  Fort  St.  Louis  of  the  Illinois. 
Monsieur,  I  dream  of  it,  —  I  go  in  long  journeys 
and  never  arrive ;  I  see  it  through  clouds,  and 
wide  rivers  flow  between  it  and  me;  and  I  am 
homesick.  Yes,  monsieur,  that  is  the  strangest 


II 6  THE   STORY  OF  TONTY. 

thing,  —  I  have  cried  of  homesickness  for  Fort 
St.  Louis  of  the  Illinois !  " 

"  Mademoiselle,"  said  Tonty,  his  voice  vibrat 
ing,  "  there  is  a  stranger  thing.  It  is  this,  —  that 
a  man  with  a  wretched  hand  of  iron  should  sud 
denly  find  within  himself  a  heart  of  fire  !  " 

When  this  confession  had  burst  from  him  he 
turned  his  back  without  apology,  and  Barbe's 
forehead  sunk  upon  the  window-sill. 

Within  the  chapel,  drops  from  the  cracked 
roof  still  fell  in  succession,  like  invisible  fingers 
playing  scales  along  the  boards.  Outside  was  the 
roar  of  the  landlocked  sea,  and  the  higher  music 
of  falling  rain.  Barbe  let  her  furtive  eyes  creep 
up  the  sill  and  find  Tonty's  large  back  on  which 
she  looked  with  abashed  but  gratified  smiles. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  he  begged  without  turning, 
"  forgive  what  I  have  said." 

"  Certainly,  monsieur,"  she  responded.  "  What 
was  it  that  you  said  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  mademoiselle,  nothing." 

"  Then,  monsieur,  I  forgive  you  for  saying 
nothing." 

Tonty,  in  his  larger  perplexity  at  having  made 
such  a  confession  without  La  Salle's  leave,  missed 
her  sting. 


FATHER  HENNEPIN'S  CHAPEL.  1 17 

Nothing  more  was  said  through  the  window. 
Barbe  moved  back,  and  the  stalwart  soldier  kept 
his  stern  posture ;  until  La  Salle,  whose  approach 
had  been  hidden  by  chimney  and  mission  house, 
burst  abruptly  into  view.  As  he  came  up,  both 
he  and  Tonty  opened  their  arms.  Strong  breast 
to  strong  breast,  cheek  touching  cheek,  spare 
olive-hued  man  and  dark  rich-blooded  man 
hugged  each  other. 

Barbe's  convent  lessons  of  embroidery  and  pious 
lore  had  included  no  heathen  tales  of  gods  or 
heroes.  Yet  to  her  this  sight  was  like  a  vision 
of  two  great  cloudy  figures  stalking  across  the 
world  and  meeting  with  an  embrace. 


VI. 

LA   SALLE   AND   TONTY. 

"Tl  THEN  one  of  the  men  had  been  called  from 
the  mission  house  to  stand  guard,  they 
came  directly  into  the  chapel,  preferring  to  talk 
there  in  the  presence  of  Barbe. 

La  Salle  kissed  her  hand  and  her  cheek,  and 
she  sat  clown  before  the  fire,  spreading  the 
buffalo  skin  under  her  feet. 

As  embers  sunk  and  the  talk  of  the  two  men 
went  on,  she  crept  as  low  as  this  shaggy  carpet, 
resting  arms  and  head  upon  the  bench.  The 
dying  fire  made  exquisite  color  in  this  dismal 
chapel. 

"  The  governor's  man,  when  he  arrived  to 
seize  Fort  St.  Louis,  gave  you  my  letter  of  in 
structions,  Tonty?" 

"Yes,  Monsieur  de  la  Salle." 

"  Then,  my  lad,  why  have  you  abandoned  the 
post  and  followed  me?  You  should  have  stayed 
to  be  my  representative.  They  have  Frontenac. 


LA   SALLE   AND    TONTY.  I  19 

Crevecceur  was  ruined  for  us.  If  they  get  St. 
Louis  of  the  Illinois  entirely  into  their  hands 
they  will  claim  the  whole  of  Louisiana,  these 
precious  Associates." 

Tonty.  laying  his  sound  arm  across  his  com 
mandant's  shoulder,  exclaimed,  "  Monsieur,  I 
have  followed  you  five  hundred  leagues  to  drag- 
that  rascal  Jolycoeur  back  with  me.  He  told  at 
Fort  St.  Louis  that  this  should  be  your  last 
journey.  " 

La  Salle  laughed. 

"  Let  me  tie  Jolycoeur  and  fling  him  into  my 
canoe,  and  I  turn  back  at  once.  I  can  hold  your 
claims  on  the  Illinois  against  any  number  of  gov 
ernor's  agents.  Take  the  surgeon  Liotot  in  Joly- 
coeur's  place.  Liotot  came  with  me,  anxious  to 
return  to  France." 

"Jolycoeur  is  no  worse  than  the  others,  my 
Tonty,  and  he  has  had  many  opportunities. 
How  often  has  my  life  been  threatened  ! 

"  He  intends  mischief,  monsieur.  If  I  had 
heard  it  before  you  set  out,  this  journey  need 
not  have  been  made." 

"  Tonty,"  declared  the  explorer,  "  I  think 
sometimes  I  carry  my  own  destruction  within 
myself.  I  will  not  chop  nice  phrases  for  these 


120  THE  STORY  OF   TON  TV. 

hounds  who  continually  ruin  my  undertakings  by 
their  faithlessness.  If  a  man  must  keep  patting 
the  populace,  he  can  do  little  else.  But  I  am 
glad  you  overtook  me  here.  My  Tonty,  if  I 
had  a  hundred  men  like  you  I  could  spread 
out  the  unknown  wilderness  and  possess  it  as 
that  child  possesses  that  hide  of  buffalo." 

Though  their  undertakings  were  united,  and 
the  Italian  had  staked  his  fortune  in  the  Nor 
man's  ventures,  La  Salle  always  assumed,  and 
Tonty  from  the  first  granted  him,  entire  mas 
tery  of  the  West.  Both  looked  with  occupied 
eyes  at  Barbe,  who  felt  her  life  enlarged  by 
witnessing  this  conference. 

"  Monsieur,  what  aspect  have  affairs  taken 
since  you  reached  Fort  Frontenac?" 

"  Worse,  Tonty,  than  I  dreaded  when  I  left 
the  Illinois.  You  know  how  this  new  governor 
stripped  Fort  Frontenac  of  men  and  made  its 
unprotected  state  an  excuse  for  seizing  it,  say 
ing  I  had  not  obeyed  the  king's  order  to  main 
tain  a  garrison.  And  you  know  how  he  and  the 
merchants  of  Montreal  have  possessed  them 
selves  of  my  seigniory  here.  They  have  sold 
and  are  still  busy  selling  my  goods  from  this 
post,  putting  the  money  into  their  pockets.  I 


LA   SALLE  AND    TONTY.  121 

spent  nearly  thirty-five  thousand  francs  improv 
ing  this  grant  of  Frontenac.  But  worse  than 
that,  Tonty,  they  have  ruined  my  credit  both 
here  and  in  France.  Even  my  brother  will  no 
more  lift  a  finger  for  me.  The  king  is  turned 
against  me.  The  fortunes  of  my  family — even 
the  fortune  of  that  child  —  are  sucked  down  in 
my  ruin." 

Barbe  noted  her  own  bankruptcy  with  the  un 
concern  of  youth.  Monsieur  de  Tonty's  face, 
when  you  looked  up  at  it  from  a  rug  beside 
the  hearth,  showed  well  its  full  rounded  chin, 
square  jaws,  and  high  temples,  the  richness  of 
its  Italian  coloring  against  the  blackness  of  its 
Italian  hair. 

"  They  call  me  a  dreamer  and  a  madman, 
these  fellows  now  in  power,  and  have  persuaded 
the  king  that  my  discoveries  are  of  no  account." 

"  Monsieur,"  exclaimed  Tonty,  "  do  you  re 
member  the  mouth  of  the  great  river?"1 

Face  glowed  opposite  face  as  they  felt  the 
log  walls  roll  away  from  environing  their  vision. 

1  Relation  of  Henri  de  Tonty  (cited  in  Margry,  i).  "Com- 
me  cette  riviere  se  divise  en  trois  chenaux,  M.  de  la  Salle  fut 
descouvrer  celuy  de  la  droite,  je  fus  a  celuy  du  mileu  et  le  Sieur 
d'Autray  a  celuy  de  la  gauche." 


122  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

It  was  no  longer  the  wash  of  the  Ontario  they 
heard,  but  the  voice  of  the  Mexican  gulf.  The 
yellow  flood  of  Mississippi  poured  out  between 
marsh  borders.  Again  discharges  of  musketry 
seemed  to  shake  the  morasses  beside  a  naked 
water  world,  the  Te  Deum  to  arise,  and  the  ex 
plorer  to  be  heard  proclaiming,  — 

"  In  the  name  of  the  most  high,  mighty,  in 
vincible,  and  victorious  Prince,  Louis  the  Great, 
by  the  grace  of  God  king  of  France  and  of 
Navarre,  Fourteenth  of  that  name,  I,  this  ninth 
day  of  April,  one  thousand  and  six  hundred 
and  eighty-two,  in  virtue  of  the  commission  of 
his  Majesty,  which  I  hold  in  my  hand  and  which 
may  be  seen  by  all  whom  it  may  concern,  have 
taken  and  do  now  take,  in  the  name  of  his 
Majesty  and  of  his  successors  to  the  crown, 
possession  of  this  country  of  Louisiana,  the 
seas,  harbors,  ports,  bays,  adjacent  straits,  and 
all  the  nations,  people,  provinces,  cities,  towns, 
villages,  mines,  minerals,  fisheries,  streams,  and 
rivers  within  the  extent  of  the  said  Louisiana, 
from  the  mouth  of  the  great  river  St.  Louis, 
otherwise  called  the  Ohio,  as  also  along  the 
river  Colbert  or  Mississippi,  and  the  rivers 
which  discharge  themselves  thereinto,  from  its 


LA    SALLE   AND    TONTY.  12$ 

source  beyond  the  country  of  the  Nadoues- 
sioux,  as  far  as  its  mouth  at  the  sea,  or  Gulf 
of  Mexico."  l 

"  Monsieur,"  exclaimed  Tonty,  "  the  plun 
derers  of  your  fortune  cannot  take  away  that 
discovery  or  blot  out  the  world  you  then  opened. 
And  what  is  Europe  compared  to  this  vast  coun 
try?  At  the  height  of  his  magnificence  Louis 
cannot  picture  to  himself  the  grandeur  of  this 
western  empire.  France  is  but  the  palm  of  his 
hand  beside  it.  It  stretches  from  endless  snow 
to  endless  heat  ;  its  breadth  no  man  may  guess. 
Nearly  all  the  native  tribes  affiliate  readily  with 
the  French.  We  have  to  dispute  us  only  the 
English  who  hold  a  little  strip  by  the  ocean,  the 
Dutch  with  smaller  holding  inland,  and  a  few 
Spaniards  along  the  Gulf." 

"  And  all  may  be  driven  out  before  the  arms 
of  France,"  exclaimed  La  Salle.  "  These  crawl 
ing  merchants  and  La  Barre,  —  soldier,  he  calls 
himself!  —  see  nothing  of  this.  Every  man  for 
his  own  purse  among  them.  But  thou  seest  it, 
Tonty.  I  see  it.  And  we  are  no  knights  on  a 
crusade.  Nor  are  we  unpractised  courtiers  shred- 

1  Abridged  from  Francis  Parkman's  version  of  La  Salle's 
proclamation.  The  Proces  Verbal  is  a  long  document. 


124  THE   STORY  OF   TONTY. 

ding  our  finery  away  on  the  briers  of  the  wilder 
ness.  This  western  enterprise  is  based  on  geogra 
phical  facts.  No  mind  can  follow  all  the  develop 
ment  of  that  rich  land.  It  is  an  empire,"  declared 
La  Salle,  striding  between  hearth  and  chancel- 
rail,  unconscious  that  he  lifted  his  voice  to  the 
rafters  of  a  sanctuary,  "  which  Louis  might  drop 
France  itself  to  grasp  !  " 

"  The  king  will  be  convinced  of  this,  Monsieur 
de  la  Salle,  when  you  again  have  his  ear.  When 
you  have  showed  him  what  streams  of  commerce 
must  flow  out  through  a  post  stationed  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Mississippi.  France  will  then  have 
a  cord  drawn  half  around  this  country." 

"  Tonty,  if  you  could  be  commandant  of  every 
fort  I  build,  navigator  of  every  ship  I  set  afloat, 
if  you  could  live  in  every  man  who  labors  for 
me,  if  you  could  stand  forever  between  those 
Iroquois  wolves  and  the  tribes  we  try  to  band 
for  mutual  protection,  and  at  the  same  time,  if 
you  could  always  be  at  my  side  to  ward  off  gun, 
knife,  and  poison,  —  you  would  make  me  the 
most  successful  man  on  earth." 

"  I  have  travelled  five  hundred  leagues  to  ward 
poison  away  from  you,  monsieur.  And  you 
laugh  at  me." 


LA   SALLE  AND    TONTY.  127 

u  For  your  pains,  I  will  dismiss  Jolycceur  to 
day,  and  take  Liotot  with  me." 

"  And  will  you  come  here  as  soon  as  you  dis 
miss  him  and  let  my  men  prepare  your  food?  " 

"  Willingly.  Fort  Frontenac,  with  my  rights 
in  it  denied,  is  no  halting  place  for  me.  To 
morrow  I  set  out  again  to  France,  and  you  to 
the  fort  on  the  Illinois.  But,  Tonty  - 

La  Salle's  face  relaxed  into  tenderness  as  he 
laid  his  hands  upon  his  friend's  shoulders.  The 
Italian's  ardent  temperament  was  the  only  agent 
which  ever  fused  and  made  facile  of  tongue  and 
easy  of  confidence  that  man  of  cold  reserve 
known  as  La  Salle.  The  Italian  guessed  what 
he  had  to  say.  They  both  glanced  at  Barbe 
and  flushed.  But  the  nebulous  thought  sur 
rounding  the  name  of  Jeanne  le  Ber  was  never 
condensed  to  spoken  word. 

Tonty's  sentinel  opened  the  chapel  door  and 
broke  up  this  council.  He  said  an  Indian  stood 
there  with  him  demanding  to  be  admitted. 


VII. 

AN    ADOPTION. 

does  he  want?"  inquired  Tonty. 
"  He  is  determined  to  speak  with  you, 
Monsieur  de  Tonty,  from  what  I  can  gather  out 
of  his  words." 

"  Let  him  wait  in  the  mission  house,  then," 
said  Tonty,  "  until  Monsieur  de  la  Salle  has 
ended  his  business." 

"  I  have  ended,"  said  La  Salle.  "  It  is  time 
I  ordered  my  men  and  baggage  and  canoes  out 
of  Fort  Frontenac." 

"  Monsieur,  remain,  and  let  an  order  from  you 
be  taken  to  the  gate." 

"  Some  of  those  sulky  fellows  need  my  hand 
over  them,  Tonty.  Besides,  there  are  matters 
which  must  be  definitely  settled  before  I  leave 
the  fort.  I  have  need  to  go  myself,  besides 
the  obligation  to  deliver  this  runaway  girl,  on 
whom  her  uncle  La  Salle  is  always  bringing 
penances." 


AN  ADOPTION.  I29 

Barbe  sprung  up  and  put  herself  in  the  attitude 
of  accompanying  him. 

"Mademoiselle,"  said  Tonty,  "the  rain  is  still 
falling.  If  Monsieur  de  la  Salle  can  carry  this 
hide  over  you,  it  will  be  some  protection." 

He  took  up  the  buffalo  skin,  and  shook  it  to 
loosen  any  dust  which  might  be  clinging  to  the 
shag. 

"  Monsieur,  you  are  very  good,"  she  answered. 
"  But  it  is  not  necessary  for  me." 

"  Mademoiselle  cares  very  little  about  a  wet 
ting,"  said  La  Salle.  "  She  was  born  to  be  a 
princess  of  the  backwoods.  Call  in  your  Indian 
before  we  go,  Tonty.  He  may  have  some  news 
for  us." 

Tonty  spoke  to  the  sentinel,  whose  fingers 
visibly  held  the  door,  and  he  let  pass  a  tall  Iro- 
quois  brave  carrying  such  a  bundle  of  rich  furs 
as  one  of  that  race  above  the  condition  of  squaw 
rarely  deigned  to  lift.  His  errand  was  evidently 
peaceable.  He  paused  and  stood  like  a  prince. 
Neither  La  Salle  nor  Tonty  remembered  his 
face,  though  both  felt  sure  he  came  from  the 
mission  village  of  friendly  Iroquois  near  Fort 
Frontenac. 

"  What  does  my  brother  want?  "  inquired  La 
9 


130  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

Salle,  with  sympathy  he  never  showed  to  his 
French  subordinates. 

"  He  waits  to  speak  to  his  white  brother  with 
the  iron  hand,"  answered  the  Iroquois. 

"  Have  you  brought  us  bad  news?  "  again  in 
quired  La  Salle. 

"  Good  news." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  It  is  only  to  my  brother  with  the  iron  hand." 

"  Can  you  not  speak  in  the  presence  of  Mon 
sieur  de  la  Salle?  "  demanded  Tonty. 

With  exquisite  reserve  the  Indian  stood  silent, 
waiting  the  conditions  he  needed  for  the  delivery 
of  his  message. 

"  It  is  nothing  which  concerns  me,"  said  La 
Salle  to  Tonty.  He  prepared  to  stalk  into  the 
weather  with  Barbe. 

Tonty  spoke  a  few  words  to  the  waiting  sav 
age,  who  heard  without  returning  any  sign,  and 
then  followed  Barbe,  stretching  the  buffalo  hide 
above  her  head.  When  La  Salle  observed  this 
he  failed  to  ridicule  his  lieutenant,  but  took  one 
side  of  the  shaggy  canopy  in  his  own  hold.  It 
was  impossible  for  the  girl  to  go  dry-shod,  but 
Tonty  directed  her  way  over  the  best  and  firmest 
ground.  They  made  a  solemn  procession,  for 


AN  ADOPTION.  131 

not  a  word  was  spoken.  When  they  came  to 
the  fortress  gate,  Tonty  again  bestowed  the  robe 
around  her  as  he  had  done  when  she  entered  the 
chapel,  and  stood  bareheaded  while  Barbe - 
whispering  "Adieu,  monsieur"  —passed  out  of 
his  sight. 

u  I  have  thought  of  this,  Tonty,"  said  La  Salle 
as  he  entered;  "when  she  is  a  few  years  older 
she  shall  come  to  the  fort  on  the  Illinois,  if  I 
again  reap  success." 

"  Monsieur  de  la  Salle,  I  am  bound  to  tell  you 
It  will  be  dangerous  for  me  ever  to  see  made 
moiselle  again." 

"  Monsieur  de  Tonty,"  responded  the  explorer 
with  his  close  smile,  "  I  am  bound  to  tell  you 
I  think  it  will  be  the  safest  imaginable  arrange 
ment  for  her." 

The  gate  closed  behind  him,  and  Tonty  car 
ried  back  an  exhilarated  face  to  the  waiting 
Iroquois. 

He  entered  Father  Hennepin's  chapel  again, 
and  the  Indian  followed  him  to  the  hearth. 

They  stood  there,  ready  for  conference,  the 
small  black  savage  eye  examining  Tonty's  face 
with  open  approval. 

"  Now  let  me  have  your  message,"  said  the 


132  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

Italian.     "  Have  I  ever  seen  you  before?     What 
is  your  name?" 

"  Sanomp,"  answered  the  Iroquois.  "  My 
white  brother  with  the  iron  hand  has  not  seen 
me  before." 


He  spread  open  on  the  bench  Barbe  had  oc 
cupied  a  present  of  fine  furs  and  dried  meat. 

"  Why  does  my  brother  bring  me  these 
things?"  inquired  Tonty,  realizing  as  he  looked 
at  the  gift  how  much  of  this  barbarian's  wealth 
was  bestowed  in  such  an  offering. 

"Listen,"   said    Sanomp.1      He   had   a  face  of 

1  Sanomp  was  suggested  to  the  romancer  by  La  Salle's  faith 
ful  Shawanoe  follower,  Nika,  and  an  Indian  friend  and  brother 
in  "  Pontiac." 


AN  ADOPTION. 


133 


benevolent  gravity,  —  the  unhurried,  sincere  face 
of  man  living  close  to  Nature.  "  It  is  a  chief  of  the 
Seneca  tribe  who  speaks  to  my  white  brother." 

"I  have  met  a  chief  of  the  Seneca  tribe  be 
fore,"  remarked  Tonty,  smiling.  "  It  was  in  the 
country  of  the  Illinois,  and  he  wrapped  my  scalp- 
lock  around  his  fingers." 

Sanomp  smiled,  too,  without  haste,  and  con 
tinued  his  story. 

"  I  left  my  people  to  live  near  the  fort  of  my 
French  brothers  because  it  was  told  me  the  man 
with  a  hand  of  iron  was  here.  When  I  came 
here  the  man  with  a  hand  of  iron  was  gone.  So 
I  waited  for  him.  Our  lives  are  consumed  in 
waiting  for  the  best  things.  Five  years  have  I 
stood  by  the  mouth  of  Cataraqui.  And  this 
morning  the  man  with  a  hand  of  iron  passed 
before  my  face." 

He  spoke  a  mixture  of  French  and  Iroquois 
which  enabled  Tonty  to  catch  his  entire  meaning. 

"  But  this  hand  could  not  betray  me  from  the 
lake,  to  eyes  that  had  never  seen  me  before," 
objected  the  Italian. 

Advancing  one  foot  and  folding  his  arms  in 
the  attitude  of  a  narrator,  the  Indian  said,  - 

"Listen.     At  that  time  of  life  when  a  young 


134  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

Iroquois  retires  from  his  tribe  to  hide  in  the  woods 
and  fast  until  his  okie1  is  revealed  to  him,  four 
days  and  four  nights  the  boy  Sanomp  lay  on 
the  ground,  rain  and  dew,  moonlight  and  sun 
light  passing  over  him.  The  boy  Sanomp 
looked  up,  for  an  eagle  dropped  before  his  eyes. 
He  then  knew  that  the  eagle  was  his  okie,  and 
that  he  was  to  be  a  warrior,  not  a  hunter  or 
medicine-man.  But  the  eagle  dropped  before 
the  feet  of  a  soldier  the  image  of  my  white 
brother,  and  the  soldier  held  up  a  hand  of 
yellow  metal.  The  boy  heard  a  voice  coming 
from  the  vision  that  said  to  him,  '  Warrior,  this 
is  thy  friend  and  brother.  Be  to  him  a  friend 
and  brother.  After  thou  hast  seven  times  fol 
lowed  the  war  path  go  and  wait  by  the  mouth 
of  Cataraqui  until  he  comes.'  So  when  I  had 
seven  times  followed  the  war  path  I  came,  and 
my  brother  being  passed  by,  I  waited." 

Tonty's  square  brown  Italian  face  was  no 
more  sincere  than  the  redder  aquiline  visage 
fronting  him  and  telling  its  vision. 

"  My  brother  Sanomp  comes  in  a  good  time," 
he  remarked. 

1  Guardian  Manitou.  See  Introduction  to  "  Jesuits  in  North 
America." 


AN  ADOPTION.  135 

The  Iroquois  next  took  out  his  peace  pipe 
and  pouch  of  tobacco.  While  he  filled  the 
bowl  and  stooped  for  an  ember,  Tonty  stripped 
the  copper  hand  of  its  glove.  He  held  it  up 
before  Sanomp  as  he  received  the  calumet  in 
the  other.  An  aboriginal  grunt  of  strong  satis 
faction  echoed  in  the  chapel. 

"Hand  of  yellow  metal,"  said  Sanomp. 

Tonty  gravely  smoked  the  pipe  and  handed 
it  back  to  Sanomp.  Sanomp  smoked  it,  shook 
the  ashes  out  and  put  it  away. 

Thus  was  the  ceremony  of  adoption  finished. 
Without  more  talk,  the  red  friend  and  brother 
turned  from  his  white  friend  and  brother  and 
went  back  to  his  own  world. 


VIII. 

TEGAHKOUITA. 

T3  ARBE  ran  breathless  up  the  stairway,  glad 
to  catch  sight  of  her  uncle  the  Abbe  so 
occupied  at  the  lower  hearth  that  he  took  no 
heed  of  her  return. 

She  had  counted  herself  the  only  woman  in 
Fort  Frontenac,  yet  she  found  a  covered  figure 
standing  in  front  of  the  chamber  door  next  her 
own. 

Though  Barbe  had  never  seen  Catharine  Te- 
gahkouita  1  she  knew  this  must  be  the  Iroquois 
virgin  who  lived  a  hermit  life  of  devotion  in  a 
cabin  at  Lachine,  revered  by  French  and  Indians 
alike.  How  this  saint  had  reached  Fort  Fron 
tenac  or  in  whose  behalf  she  was  exerting  her 
self  Barbe  could  not  conjecture.  Tegahkouita 

1  The  romancer  differs  from  the  historian  —  Charlevoix, 
tome  2  — who  records  that  Catharine  Tegahkouita  died  in 
1678. 


TEGAHKOUITA.  1 3  7 

had  interceded  for  many  afflicted  people  and 
her  prayers  were  much  sought  after. 

The  Indian  girl  kept  her  face  entirely  cov 
ered.  No  man  knew  that  it  was  comely  or 
even  what  its  features  were  like.  The  chroni 
cler  tells  us  when  she  was  a  young  orphan 
beside  her  uncle's  lodge-fire  her  eyes  were  too 
weak  to  bear  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  in  this 
darkness  began  the  devotion  which  distin 
guished  her  life.  What  was  first  a  necessity, 
became  finally  her  choice,  and  she  shut  her 
self  from  the  world. 

To  Barbe,  Tegahkouita  was  an  object  of  re 
ligious  awe  tempered  by  that  criticism  in  which 
all  young  creatures  secretly  indulge.  She  sat 
on  the  bench  as  if  in  meditation,  but  her  eyes 
crept  up  and  down  that  straight  and  motion 
less  and  blanket-eclipsed  presence.  She  knew 
that  Tegahkouita  was  good ;  was  it  not  told  of 
the  Indian  girl  that  she  rolled  three  days  in  a 
bed  of  thorns,  and  that  she  often  walked  bare 
footed  in  ice  and  snow,  to  discipline  her  body? 
She  was  not  afraid  of  Tegahkouita.  But  she 
wished  somebody  else  would  come  into  the 
room  who  could  break  the  saint's  death-like 
silence.  Sainthood  was  a  very  safe  condition, 


138  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

but   Barbe    found    it    impossible    to    admire    the 
outward   appearance   of  a  living  saint. 

La  Salle  had  stopped  at  the  barracks  to  order 
out  his  men,  and  Colin  who  had  taken  to  that 
part  of  the  fort  for  amusement,  watched  their 
transfer  with  much  interest. 

Wind  was  conquering  rain.  It  blew  keenly 
from  the  southwest,  and  sung  at  the  corners  of 
Frontenac,  whirling  dead  leaves  like  fugitive 
birds  into  the  area  of  the  fort.  La  Salle's  men 
turned  out  of  their  quarters  with  reluctance  to 
exchange  safety  and  comfort  for  exposure  and 
a  leaky  camp.  The  explorer  stood  and  saw 
them  pass  before  him  bearing  their  various  bur 
dens,  excepting  one  man  who  slouched  by  the 
door  of  the  bakehouse  as  if  he  had  stationed 
himself  there  to  see  that  they  passed  in  order 
out  of  the  gate. 

"  Come  here,  you  Jolycceur,"  called  La  Salle, 
lifting  his  finger. 

Jolycoeur,  savagely  hairy,  approached  with 
that  look  of  sulky  menace  La  Salle  never 
appeared  to  see  in  his  servants. 

"Where  is  your  load  of  goods?"  inquired 
the  explorer. 

Jolycceur  lifted  a  quick  look,  and  dropping  it 


I 


TEGAHKOUITA.  141 

again,  replied,  "  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  I  was  waiting 
for  the  cook  to  hand  me  out  the  dishes  you 
ordered  against  you  came  back." 

La  Salle  examined  him  through  half-shut 
eyes.  It  was  this  man's  constant  duty  to 
prepare  his  food.  Tonty  and  his  brother  Jean 
had  so  occupied  his  morning  that  he  had 
found  no  time  for  eating.  A  man  inured  to 
hardships  can  fast  with  very  little  thought  about 
the  matter,  but  he  decided  if  Jolycceur  had  not 
yet  handled  this  meal  he  might  hazard  some 
last  service  from  a  man  who  had  missed  so 
many  opportunities. 

"  Did  you  cook  my  breakfast?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  I  dared  not  put  my  nose  in 
the  bakehouse.  This  cook  is  the  worst  man  in 
Fort  Frontenac." 

The  cook  appearing  with  full  hands  in  his  door, 
La  Salle  said  to  Jolycceur,  "  Carry  those  platters 
into  the  lodge,"  and  he  watched  the  minutest 
action  of  the  man's  elbows,  walking  behind  him 
into  the  lower  apartment  of  the  dwelling.  A 
table  stood  there  on  which  Jolycoeur  began  to 
arrange  the  dishes  with  surly  carelessness. 

The  explorer  forgot  him  the  moment  they 
entered,  for  two  people  occupied  this  room  in 


142  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

close  talk.  Challenging  whatever  ill  Jacques  le 
Ber  and  the  Abbe  Cavelier  had  prepared,  La 
Salle  advanced  beyond  the  table  with  the  chill 
and  defiant  bearing  natural  to  him. 

"  Monsieur  le  Ber  and  I  have  been  discussing 
this  alliance  you  are  so  anxious  to  make  with  his 
family,"  spoke  the  Abbe. 

The  explorer  met  Le  Ber's  face  full  of  that  tri 
umphant  contempt  which  men  strangely  feel  for 
other  men  who  have  fallen  and  become  stepping- 
stones  of  fortune  to  themselves.  He  turned  away 
without  answer,  and  began  to  eat  indifferently 
from  the  dishes  Jolycceur  had  left  ready,  stand 
ing  beside  the  table  while  he  ate. 

"  If  Jacques  le  Ber  were  as  anxious  for  the 
marriage  as  yourself,  —  but  I  told  you  this  morn 
ing,  my  brother  La  Salle,  what  madness  it  must 
seem  to  all  sane  men,  —  it  could  not  be  arranged. 
His  daughter  hath  refused  to  see  you." 

"  My  thanks  are  due  to  my  brother  the  Abbe 
for  his  nice  management  of  all  my  affairs," 
sneered  La  Salle.  "  I  comprehend  there  is  noth 
ing  which  he  will  not  endeavor  to  mar  for  me. 
It  surely  is  madness  which  induces  a  man  against 
all  experience  to  confide  in  his  brother." 

Jean  Cavelier  replied  with  a  shrug  and  a  spread 


TEGAHKOUITA.  143 

of  the  hands  which  said,  "  In  such  coin  of  grati 
tude  am  I  always  paid." 

"  Sieur  de  la  Salle,"  volunteered  Le  Ber,  rising 
and  coming  forward  with  natural  candor,  "  it  is 
not  so  long  ago  that  your  proposal  would  have 
made  me  proud,  and  the  Abbe  hath  not  ill 
managed  it  now.  Monsieur,  I  wish  my  girl  to 
marry.  I  have  been  ready  for  any  marriage  she 
would  accept.  She  has  indeed  shown  more  lik 
ing  for  you  than  for  any  other  man  in  New 
France.  Monsieur,  I  would  far  rather  have  her 
married  than  bound  to  the  life  she  leads.  But  if 
you  were  in  a  position  to  marry,  Jeanne  refuses 
your  hand." 

"  Has  she  said  this  to  you?"  inquired  La  Salle. 

"  I  have  not  seen  her  to-day,"  replied  Le  Ber. 
"  She  has  the  Iroquois  virgin  Tegahkouita  with 
her.  I  brought  Tegahkouita  here  because  she 
was  besought  for  some  healing  in  our  Iroquois 
lodges  near  the  fort." 

Jacques  le  Ber  stopped.  But  La  Salle  calmly 
heard  him  thus  claim  everything  pertaining  to 
Fort  Frontenac. 

"We  must  do  what  we  can  to  hold  these  un 
stable  Indians,"  continued  Le  Ber.  "  Monsieur, 
before  I  could  carry  your  proposal  to  Jeanne, 


144  THE  STOKY  OF   TONTY. 

she  sends  me  Tegahkouita,  as  if  they  had  some 
holy  contrivance  for  reading  people's  minds. 
Your  brother  will  confirm  to  you  the  words 
Tegahkouita  brought." 

"  Mademoiselle  le  Ber  will  pray  for  you 
always,  my  brother  La  Salle.  But  she  refuses 
even  to  see  you," 

"  It  is  easy  enough  for  Jeanne  to  put  you  in  her 
prayers,"  remarked  the  discontented  father,  "  she 
hath  room  enough  there  for  all  New  France." 

The  man  who  had  more  than  once  sprung 
into  the  midst  of  hostile  savages  and  carried 
their  admiration  by  a  word,  now  stood  silent  and 
musing.  But  his  face  expressed  nothing  except 
determination. 

"  You  shall  see  her  yourself,"  Jacques  le  Ber 
exclaimed,  with  the  shrewdness  of  a  man  holding 
present  advantage,  yet  gauging  fully  his  antago 
nist's  force.  "  You  and  I  were  once  friends,  Sieur 
de  la  Salle.  I  might  obtain  a  worse  match  for 
my  girl." 

"  I  will  see  her,"  said  La  Salle,  more  in  the 
manner  of  affirming  his  own  wish  than  of  accept 
ing  a  concession. 

He  mounted  the  stairs,  with  Le  Ber  behind 
him,  the  Abbe  Cavelier  following  Le  Ber. 


TEGAHKOUITA.  145 

As  the  father  expected,  Tegahkouita  stood 
as  a  bar  in  front  of  Jeanne's  chamber  door. 
Slightly  spreading  her  blanketed  arms  this  Indian 
girl  of  peculiar  gifts  said  slowly  and  melodiously 
in  a  voice  tuned  by  much  low-spoken  prayer, 
"  Mademoiselle  Jeanne  le  Ber  says,  '  Tell  Sieur 
de  la  Salle  I  will  pray  for  him  always,  but  I  must 
never  see  his  face  again.' " 


10 


IX. 

AN   ORDEAL. 

:  V\  7HEN  I  have  seen  Mademoiselle  le  Ber," 
La   Salle    replied    to    the    blanket    of 
Tegahkouita,   "  I   shall   understand  from    herself 
what  her  wishes  are  in  this  matter." 

"Sieur  de  la  Salle  cannot  see  her,"  spoke 
Tegahkouita.  "  She  hath  no  word  but  this,  and 
she  will  not  see  Sieur  de  la  Salle  again." 

"  I  say  he  shall  see  her !  "  exclaimed  the  Mon 
treal  merchant,  with  asperity  created  by  so 
many  influences  working  upon  his  daughter. 
"  He  may  look  upon  her  this  minute !  " 

Jeanne  le  Ber's  presence  in  Fort  Frontenac 
scarcely  surprised  Barbe,  so  great  was  her 
amazement  at  the  attitude  of  her  uncle  La  Salle. 
That  he  should  be  suing  to  Le  Ber's  daughter 
seemed  as  impossible  as  any  rejection  of  his  suit. 
She  felt  toward  the  saint  she  had  pinched  at 
convent  that  jealous  resentment  peculiar  to 
women  who  desire  to  have  the  men  of  their 


AN  OK  DEAL.  147 

families  married,  yet  are  never  satisfied  with 
the  choice  those  men  make.  Even  Barbe,  how 
ever,  considered  it  a  sacrilegious  act  when  Le 
Ber  shook  his  daughter's  door  and  demanded 
admittance. 

Jeanne's  complete  silence,  like  a  challenge, 
drew  out  his  imperative  force.  He  broke 
through  every  fastening  and  threw  the  door  wide 
open. 

The  small,  bare  room,  scarcely  wider  than  its 
entrance,  afforded  no  hiding-places.  There  was 
little  to  catch  the  eye,  from  rude  berth  to  hooks 
in  the  ruder  wall,  from  which  the  commandant's 
clothing  had  so  lately  been  removed. 

Jeanne,  the  focus  of  this  small  cell,  had  flown 
to  its  extremity.  As  the  door  burst  from  its 
fastenings,  everybody  in  the  outer  room  could 
see  her  standing  against  the  wall  with  noble  in 
stinct,  facing  the  breakers  of  her  privacy,  but 
without  looking  at  them.  Her  eyes  rested  on 
her  beads,  which  she  told  with  rapid  lips  and 
fingers.  A  dormer  window  spread  its  back 
ground  of  light  around  her  head. 

The  recoil  of  inaction  which  followed  Le  Ber's 
violence  was  not  felt  by  Tegahkouita.  With  the 
swift  silence  of  an  Indian  and  the  intuition  of  a 


148  THE  STORY  OF   TON  TV. 

devotee,  she  at  once  put  herself  in  the  sleeping 
cell,  and  kneeled  holding  up  a  crucifix  before 
Jeanne.  As  this  symbol  of  religion  was  lifted, 
Jeanne  fell  upon  her  knees. 

Le  Ber  had  not  intended  to  enter,  but  indigna 
tion  drove  him  on  after  Tegahkouita.  He  stood 
aside  and  did  not  approach  his  child,  —  a  jeal 
ous,  remorseful,  anxious,  irritated  man. 

La  Salle  could  see  Jeanne,  though  with  giddy 
and  indistinct  vision.  Her  wool  gown  lay 
around  her  in  carven  folds,  as  she  knelt  like  a 
victim  ready  for  the  headsman's  axe. 

One  of  the  proudest  and  most  reticent  men 
who  ever  trod  the  soil  of  the  New  World  was  thus 
reduced  to  woo  before  his  enemy  and  his  kin 
dred  ;  to  argue  against  those  unseen  forces  repre 
sented  by  the  Indian  girl,  and  to  fight  death  in 
his  own  body  with  every  pleading  respiration. 
For  blindness  was  growing  over  his  eyes.  His 
lungs  were  tightened.  When  his  back  was  turned 
in  the  room  below,  Jolycceur  had  mixed  a  dish 
for  him. 

La  Salle's  hardihood  was  the  marvel  of  his  fol 
lowers.  A  body  and  will  of  electric  strength 
carried  him  thousands  of  miles  through  ways 
called  impassable.  Defeat  could  not  defeat  him. 


AN  ORDEAL.  1 49 

But  this  struggle  with  Jeanne  le  Ber  was  harder 
than  any  struggle  with  an  estranged  king,  harder 
than  again  bringing  up  fortune  from  the  depths 
of  ruin,  harder  than  tearing  his  breath  of  life 
from  the  reluctant  air.  He  reared  himself 
against  the  chimney-side,  pressing  with  palms 
and  stretched  fingers  for  support,  yet  maintain 
ing  a  roused  erectness. 

"  Jeanne  !  "  he  spoke ;  and  eyes  less  blind  than 
his  could  detect  a  sinking  of  her  figure  at  the 
sound,  "  I  have  this  to  say." 

With  a  plunging  gait  which  terrified  Barbe  by 
its  unnaturalness,  La  Salle  attempted  to  place 
himself  nearer  the  silent  object  he  was  to  move. 
As  he  passed  through  the  doorway  he  caught  at 
the  sides,  and  then  stretched  out  and  braced 
one  palm  against  the  wall.  Thus  propped  he 
proceeded,  articulating  thickly  but  with  careful 
exactness. 

"  Jeanne,  when  I  have  again  brought  success 
out  of  failure,  I  shall  demand  you  in  marriage. 
Your  father  permits  it." 

Her  trembling  lips  prayed  on,  and  she  gave 
no  token  of  having  heard  him,  except  the  tremor 
which  shook  even  the  folds  of  her  gown. 

Too   proud  to  confess  his  peril  and  make  its 


150  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

appeal  to  her,  and  suppressing  before  so  many 
witnesses  her  tender  name  of  Sainte,  he  labored 
on  as  La  Salle  the  explorer  with  the  statement 
of  his  case. 

"  Perhaps  I  cannot  see  you  again  for  some 
years.  I  do  not  ask  words  —  of  acceptance  now. 
It  is  enough  —  if  you  look  at  me." 

La  Salle  leaned  forward.  His  eyeballs  ap 
peared  to  swell  and  protrude  as  he  strained  sight 
for  the  slightest  lifting  of  the  veil  before  that 
self-restraining  spirit. 

Barbe's  wailing  suddenly  broke  all  bounds  in 
the  outer  room.  "  My  uncle  the  Abbe !  Look 
at  my  uncle  La  Salle !  He  cannot  breathe  — 
he  is  going  to  die !  Somebody  has  poisoned 
or  stabbed  my  uncle  La  Salle !  " 

Jean  Cavelier  with  lower  outcry  ran  to  help 
the  explorer.  But  even  a  brother  and  a  priest 
has  his  limitations.  La  Salle  pushed  him  off. 

When  Barbe  saw  this,  she  threw  herself  to  the 
floor  and  hid  her  face  upon  the  bench.  Her 
kinsman  and  the  hero  of  her  childhood  was  held 
over  the  abyss  of  death  in  the  hand  of  Jeanne  le 
Ber,  while  those  who  loved  him  must  set  their 
teeth  in  silence. 

But  neither  this  childish  judge,  nor  the  father 


AN  ORDEAL.  I  5  I 

watching  for  any  slight  motion  of  eyelids  which 
might  direct  all  his  future  hopes  and  plans, 
knew  what  sickening  moisture  started  from  every 
pore  of  Jeanne  le  Ber.  Still  she  lifted  her  faint 
ing  eyes  only  as  high  as  the  crucifix  Tegahkouita 
held  before  her.  Compared  to  her  duty  as  she 
saw  it,  she  must  count  as  nothing  the  life  of  the 
man  she  loved. 

The  Indian  girl's  weak  sight  had  no  plummet 
for  the  face  of  this  greater  devotee.  Passionately 
white,  its  lips  praying  fast,  it  stared  at  the  cruci 
fix.  Cold  drops  ran  down  from  the  dew  which 
beaded  temples  and  upper  lip.  Sieur  de  la  Salle 
—  Sieur  de  la  Salle  was  dying,  and  asking  her  for 
a  look!  The  lifting  of  her  eyelids,  the  least 
wavering  of  her  sight,  would  sweep  away  the 
vows  she  had  made  to  Heaven,  and  loosen  her 
soul  for  its  swift  rush  to  his  breast.  To  be  the 
wife  of  La  Salle !  Her  mutter  became  almost 

audible  as  she  slid  the  beads  between  her  fingers. 

God  would  keep  her  from  this  deadly  sin. 

The  gigantic  will  of  La  Salle,  become  almost 

material    and   visible,    fell   upon  her  with  a  cry 

which  must  have  broken  any  other  endurance. 
"  Jeanne  !  look  at  me  now  —  you  shall  look  at 


me  now ! 


152  THE  STORY-  OF  TONTY. 

Hoarse  shouts  of  battle  never  tingled  through 
blood  as  did  the  voice  of  this  isolated  man. 

Jeanne's  lips  twitched  on ;  she  twisted  her 
hands  in  tense  knots  against  her  neck,  and  her 
eyes  maintained  the  level  of  the  cross. 

Silence  —  that  fragment  of  eternity  —  then 
filled  up  the  room,  submerging  strained  ears. 
There  were  remote  sounds,  like  the  scream  of 
wind  cut  by  the  angles  of  Fort  Frontenac ;  but 
no  sound  which  pierced  the  silence  between  La 
Salle  and  Jeanne  le  Ber. 

He  turned  around  and  cast  himself  through 
the  doorway  with  a  lofty  tread  as  if  he  were  try 
ing  to  mount  skyward.  The  Abbe  Cavelier  ex 
tended  both  arms  and  kept  him  from  stumbling 
over  the  settle  which  Barbe  was  baptizing  with 
her  anguish.  She  looked  up  with  the  distorted 
visage  of  one  who  weeps  terribly,  and  saw  the 
groping  explorer  led  to  the  staircase.  His  feet 
plunged  in  the  descent. 

To  this  noise  was  added  a  distinct  thud  from 
Jeanne  le  Ber's  room  as  her  head  struck  the 
floor.  She  lay  relaxed  and  prostrate,  and  her 
father  lifted  her  up.  Before  rising  to  his  feet 
with  her  he  passed  his  hand  piteously  across  her 
bruised  forehead. 


X. 

HEMLOCK. 


TOLYCCEUR,  lounging  with  his  shoulders 
J  against  the  barrack  wall,  gave  furtive  atten 
tion  to  La  Salle  as  the  explorer  appeared  within 
the  fort.  Even  his  eye  was  deceived  by  his 
master's  bearing  in  giving  him  the  signal  to 

approach. 

The   wind  was    helpful  to    La    Salle,  but    he 

only  half  met  daylight  and  saw  Jolycceur  taking 

strange  shapes. 

"  Go  to  Father  Hennepin's  old  mission  house," 

he  slowly  commanded,  "  and  send  Monsieur  de 

Tonty  directly  to  me." 


156  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

The  man,  not  daring  to  disobey  until  he 
could  take  refuge  in  Fort  Frontenac  with  the 
gates  closed  behind  the  explorer,  went  on  this 
errand. 

"What  ails  Sieur  de  la  Salle?"  inquired  the 
cook,  coming  out  of  his  bakehouse  to  get  this 
news  of  a  sentinel. 

They  both  watched  the  Abbe  Cavelier  mak 
ing  vain  efforts  to  get  hold  of  his  misdirected 
brother. 

"  Gone  mad  with  pride,"  suggested  the  sen 
tinel.  "The  less  he  prospers  the  loftier  I  have 
always  heard  he  bears  himself.  Would  the 
governor  of  New  France  climb  the  wind  with  a 
tread  like  that?" 

Outside  the  gate  La  Salle's  limbs  failed.  The 
laboring  Abbe  then  dragged  him  along,  and  it 
seemed  an  immense  detour  he  was  obliged  to 
make  to  pass  the  extended  foundation. 

"  Now  you  will  believe  my  words  which  I 
spoke  this  morning  concerning  the  peril  we  all 
stand  in,"  panted  this  sorely  taxed  brother. 
"  The  Cavelier  family  is  destroyed.  My  brother 
La  Salle  —  Robert  —  my  child  !  Shall  I  give 
you  absolution?  " 

"Not  yet,"  gasped  La  Salle. 


HEMLOCK.  157 

"  If  you  had  ever  taken  my  advice,  this 
miserable  end  had  not  come  upon  you." 

"  I  am  not  ended,"   gasped  La  Salle. 

"  Oh,  my  brother,"  lamented  Jean  Cavelier,* 
tucking  up  his  cassock  as  he  bent  to  the  strain, 
"  I  have  but  one  consolation  in  my  wretchedness. 
This  is  better  for  you  than  the  marriage  you 
would  have  made.  What  business  have  you  to 
ally  yourself  with  Le  Ber?  What  business  have 
you  with  marriage  at  all?  For  my  part,  I  would 
object  to  any  marriage  you  had  in  view,  but  Le 
Ber's  daughter  was  the  worst  marriage  for  you  in 
New  France.  ' 

"  Tonty  !  "  gasped  La  Salle.  With  the  swiftness 
of  an  Indian,  Tonty  was  flying  across  the  clear 
ing.  The  explorer's  unwary  messenger  Jolycceur 
he  had  left  behind  him  bound  with  hide  thongs 
and  lying  in  Father  Hennepin's  inner  room. 

"  Yes,  yonder  comes  your  Monsieur  de  Tonty 
who  so  easily  gave  up  your  post  on  the  Illinois," 
panted  the  Abbe  Cavelier.  "Like  all  your 
worthless  followers  he  hath  no  attachment  to 


your  person" 


"  There  is  more  love  in  his  iron  hand,"  La 
Salle's  paralyzing  mouth  flung  out,  "than  in  any 
other  living  heart  !  " 


158  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

Needing  no  explanation  from  the  Abbe",  the 
commandant  from  Fort  St.  Louis  took  strong 
hold  of  La  Salle  and  hurried  him  to  the  mission 
house.  They  faced  the  wind,  and  Tonty's  cap 
blew  off,  his  rings  of  black  hair  flaring  to  a 
fierce  uprightness. 

The  surgeon  ran  out  of  the  dwelling  and  met 
and  helped  them  in,  and  thus  tardily  resistance 
to  the  poison  was  begun,  but  it  had  found  its 
hardiest  victim  since  the  day  of  Socrates. 

Tonty's  iron  hand  brought  out  of  Jolycoaur  im 
mediate  confession  of  the  poison  he  had  used. 

In  an  age  when  most  cunning  and  deadly 
drugs  were  freely  handled,  and  men  who  would 
not  shed  blood  thought  it  no  sin  to  take  enemies 
neatly  oft  the  scene  by  the  magic  of  a  dish, 
Jolycceur  was  not  without  knowledge  of  a  plant 
called  hemlock,  growing  ready  to  the  hand  of  a 
good  poisoner  in  the  New  World. 

Noon  stood  in  the  sky,  half  shredding  va 
pors,  and  lighting  cool  sparkles  upon  the  lake, 
Afternoon  dragged  its  mute  and  heavy  hours 
westward. 

Men  left  the  mission  house  and  entered  it 
again,  carrying  wood  or  water 

The  sun  set  in  the  lake,  parting  clouds  before 


HEMLOCK.  l6l 

his  sinking  visage  and  stretching  his  rays  like 
long  arms  of  fire  to  smite  the  heaving  water. 

Twilight  rose  out  of  the  earth  and  crept  sky 
ward,  blotting  all  visible  shore.  Fort  Frontenac 
stood  an  indistinct  mass  beside  the  Cataraqui,  as 
beside  another  lake.  Stars  seemed  to  run  and 
meet  and  dive  in  long  ripples.  The  wash  of 
water  up  the  sand  subsided  in  force  as  the  wind 
sunk,  leaving  air  space  for  that  ceaseless  tune 
breathed  by  a  great  forest. 

Overhead,  from  a  port  of  cloud,  the  moon's 
sail  pushed  out  suddenly,  less  round  than  it  had 
been  the  night  before,  and  owning  by  such  de 
pression  that  she  had  begun  tacking  toward  her 
third  quarter.  Fort  and  settlements  again  found 
their  proportions,  and  Father  Hennepin's  cross 
stood  clear  and  fair,  throwing  its  shadow  across 
the  mission  house. 

Within  the  silent  mission  house  warmth  and 
redness  were  diffused  from  logs  piled  in  the 
chimney. 

The  Abbe  Cavelier's  cassock  rose  and  fell  with 
that  sleep  which  follows  great  anxiety  and  ex 
haustion.  He  reclined  against  the  lowest  step  of 
a  broken  ladder-way  which  once  ascended  from 
corner  to  loft.  The  men,  except  one  who  stood 


1 62  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

euard  outside  in  the  shadow  of  the  house,  were 

o 

asleep  in  the   next  room. 

La  Salle  rested  before  the  hearth  on  some  of 
the  skins  Tonty  had  received  from  his  Indian 
friend  and  brother.  Whenever  the  explorer 
opened  his  eyes  he  saw  Tonty  sitting  awake  on 
the  floor  beside  him. 

"  Sleep,"  urged  La  Salle. 

"  I  shall  not  sleep  again,"  said  Tonty,  "  until  I 
see  you  safely  on  your  way  toward  France." 

"  This  has  been  worse  than  the  dose  of  ver 
digris  I  once  got." 

"  Jolycceur  says  he  used  hemlock,"  responded 
Tonty.  "  He  accused  everybody  in  New  France 
of  setting  him  on  to  the  deed,  but  I  silenced 
that." 

11 1  had  not  yet  dismissed  him,  Tonty.  The 
scoundrel  hath  claims  on  me  for  two  years' 
wages." 

"  He  should  have  got  his  wages  of  me,"  ex 
claimed  Tonty,  "  if  this  proved  your  death.  He 
should  have  as  many  bullets  as  his  body  could 
hold." 

"  Tonty,  untie  the  fellow  and  turn  him  out  and 
discharge  his  wages  for  me  with  some  of  the 
skins  you  have  put  under  me."  La  Salle  rose 


HEMLOCK.  163 

on  his  elbow  and  then  sat  up.  His  face  was 
very  haggard,  but  the  practical  clear  eye  domi 
nated  it.  "  These  fellows  cannot  balk  me.  I 
have  lost  all  that  makes  life,  except  my  friend. 
But  I  shall  come  back  and  take  the  great  west 
yet !  A  man  with  a  purpose  cannot  be  killed, 
Tonty.  He  goes  on.  He  must  go  on." 


III. 

FORT   ST.  LOUIS  OF   THE   ILLINOIS. 

1687     A.  D. 


I. 

IN    AN    EAGLE'S   NEST. 


"  T7ORT  Lewis  is  in  the  country  of  the  Illinois 
and  seated  on  a  steep  Rock  about  two 
hundred  Foot  high,  the  River  running  at  the 
Bottom  of  it.  It  is  only  fortified  with  Stakes  and 
Palisades,  and  s-ome  Houses  advancing  to  the 
Edge  of  the  Rock.  It  has  a  very  spacious  Espla 
nade,  or  Place  of  Arms.  The  Place  is  naturally 
strong,  and  might  be  made  so  by  Art,  with  little 
expence.  Several  of  the  Natives  live  in  it,  in  their 


1 68  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

Huts.  I  cannot  give  an  Account  of  the  Latitude 
it  stands  in,  for  want  of  proper  Instruments  to 
take  an  Observation,  but  Nothing  can  be  pleas- 
anter ;  and  it  may  be  truly  affirmed  that  the 
Country  of  the  Illinois  enjoys  all  that  can  make 
it  accomplished,  not  only  as  to  Ornament,  but 
also  for  its  plentiful  Production  of  all  Things 
requisite  for  the  Support  of  human  Life. 

"  The  Plain,  which  is  watered  by  the  River,  is 
beautified  by  two  small  Hills  about  half  a  League 
distant  from  the  Fort,  and  those  Hills  are  cover'd 
with  groves  of  Oaks,  Walnut-Trees,  and  other 
Sorts  I  have  named  elsewhere.  The  Fields  are 
full  of  Grass,  growing  up  very  high.  On  the 
Sides  of  the  Hills  is  found  a  gravelly  Sort  of 
Stone,  very  fit  to  make  Lime  for  Building. 
There  are  also  many  Clay  Pits,  fit  for  making  of 
Earthen  Ware,  Bricks,  and  Tiles,  and  along  the 
River  there  are  Coal  Pits,  the  Coal  whereof  has 
been  try'd  and  found  very  good." 1 

The  young  man  lifted  his  pen  from  the  paper 
and  stood  up  beside  a  box  in  the  storehouse 
which  had  served  him  as  table,  at  the  demand  of 
a  priestly  voice. 

1  Joutel.  English  Translation  "  from  the  edition  just  pub 
lished  at  Paris,  1714  A.  D." 


IN  AN  EAGLE'S  NEST.  169 

"Joutel,  what  are  you  writing  there?" 

"Monsieur  the  Abbe,  I  was  merely  setting 
down  a  few  words  about  this  Fort  St.  Louis  of 
the  Illinois  in  which  we  are  sheltered.  But  my 
candle  is  so  nearly  burned  out  I  will  put  the 
leaves  aside." 

"  You  were  writing  nothing  else?  "  insisted  La 
Salle's  brother,  setting  his  shoulders  against  the 
storehouse  door. 

"  Not  a  word,   monsieur." 

The  Abbe's  ragged  cassock  scarcely  showed 
such  wear  as  his  face,  which  the  years  that  had 
handled  him  could  by  no  means  have  cut  into 
such  deep  grooves  or  moulded  into  such  ghastly 
hillocks  of  features. 

"  I  cannot  sleep  to-night,  Joutel,"  said  the 
Abbe  Cavelier. 

"  I  thought  you  were  made  very  comfortable 
in  the  house,"  remarked  Joutel. 

"What  can  make  me  comfortable  now?" 

They  stood  still,  saying  nothing,  while  a  can 
dle  waved  its  feeble  plume  with  uncertainty  over 
its  marsh  of  tallow,  making  their  huge  shadows 
stagger  over  log-wall  or  floor  or  across  piled 
merchandise.  One  side  of  the  room  was  filled 
with  stacked  buffalo  hides,  on  which  Joutel, 


I/O  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

nightly,  took  the  complete  rest  he  had  earned  by 
long  tramping  in  southern  woods. 

He  rested  his  knuckles  on  the  box  and  looked 
down.  A  Norman  follower  of  the  Caveliers,  he 
had  done  La  Salle  good  service,  but  between  the 
Abbe  and  him  lay  a  reason  for  silence. 

"  Tonty  may  reach  the  Rock  at  any  time,"  l 
complained  the  Abbe  to  the  floor,  though  his 
voice  must  reach  Joutel's  ears.  "  There  is 
nothing  I  dread  more  than  meeting  Tonty." 

"  We  can  leave  the  Rock  before  Monsieur  de 
Tonty  arrives,"  said  Joutel,  repeating  a  sugges 
tion  he  had  made  many  times. 

"  Certainly,  without  the  goods  my  brother 
would  have  him  deliver  to  me,  without  a  canoe 
or  any  provision  whatever  for  our  journey!" 

"  They  say  here  that  Monsieur  de  Tonty  led 
only  two  hundred  Indians  and  fifty  Frenchmen 
to  aid  the  new  governor  in  his  war  against  the 
Iroquois,"  observed  Joutel.  "  He  may  not  come 
back  at  all." 

"  I  have  thought  of  that,"  the  Abbe  mused. 
"If  Tonty  be  dead  we  are  indeed  wasting  our 
time  here,  when  we  ought  to  be  well  on  our 

1 "  Le  Rocher,"  this  natural  fortress  was  commonly  called  by 
the  French.  See  Charlevoix. 


IN  AN  EAGLE'S  NEST.  173 

way  to  Quebec,  to  say  naught  of  the  voyage  to 
France.  But  this  fellow  in  charge  of  the  Rock- 
refuses  to  honor  my  demands  without  more 
authority." 

"  He   received    us  most    kindly,  and  we   have 
been  his  guests  a  month,"  said  Joutel. 

"  I  would  be  his  guest  no  longer  than  this 
passing  night  if  my  difficulties  were  solved,"  said 
the  Abbe.  "  For  there  is  even  Colin's  sister 
to  torment  me.  I  know  not  where  she  is,  — 
whether  in  Montreal  or  in  the  wilderness  be 
tween  Montreal  and  this  fort.  If  I  had  taken 
her  back  with  Colin  to  France,  she  would  now 
be  safe  with  my  mother.  There  was  another 
evidence  of  my  poor  brother's  madness !  He 
was  determined  Mademoiselle  Cavelier  should 
be  sent  out  to  Fort  St.  Louis.  When  he  sailed 
on  that  last  great  voyage,  he  sat  in  one  of  the 
ships  the  king  furnished  him  and  in  the  last  lines 
he  wrote  his  mother  refused  to  tell  her  his  desti 
nation  !  And  at  the  same  time  he  wrote  instruc 
tions  to  the  nuns  of  St.  Joseph  concerning  the 
niece  whose  guardian  he  never  was.  She  must 
be  sent  to  Fort  St.  Louis  at  the  first  safe  oppor 
tunity  !  She  was  to  have  a  grant  in  this  country 
to  replace  her  fortune  which  he  had  used.  And 


174  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

this   he    only   told   me   during   his    fever   at    St. 
Domingo  on  the  voyage." 

Joutel  folded  and  put  away  his  notes.  The 
Abbe's  often  repeated  complaints  seldom  stirred 
a  reply  from  him.  Though  on  this  occasion  he 
thought  of  saying,  — 

"  Monsieur  de  Tonty  may  bring  news  of  her 
from  Montreal." 

"  You  understand,  Joutel,"  exclaimed  the  Abbe, 
approaching  the  candle,  "that  it  is  best,  —  that 
it  is  necessary  not  to  tell  Tonty  what  we  know?  " 

"  I  have  understood  what  you  said,  Monsieur 
the  Abbe." 

"  You  are  the  only  man  who  gives  me  anxiety. 
All  the  rest  are  willing  to  keep  silence.  Is  it  not 
my  affair?  I  wish  you  would  cease  writing  your 
scraps.  It  irritates  me  to  come  into  this  store 
house  and  find  you  writing  your  scraps."  He 
looked  severely  at  the  young  man,  who  leaned 
against  the  box  making  no  further  promise 
or  reply.  Then  seizing  the  candle,  the  Abbe 
stepped  to  a  bed  made  of  bales,  where,  wrapped 
in  skins  and  blankets,  young  Colin  Cavelier  lay 
uttering  the  acknowledgement  of  peaceful  sleep. 
Another  boy  lay  similarly  wrapped  on  the  floor 
beside  him. 


IN  AN  EAGLE'S  NEST.  175 

The  priest's  look  at  these  two  was  brief.  He 
went  on  to  the  remaining  man  in  the  room,  a 
hairy  fellow,  lying  coiled  among  hides  and 
pressed  quite  into  a  corner.  The  man  ap 
peared  unconscious,  emitting  his  breath  in  short 
puffs. 

Abbe  Cavelier  gazed  upon  him  with  shudders. 

The  over-taxed  candle  flame  stooped  and  ex 
pired,  the  scent  of  its  funeral  pile  rising  from  a 
small  red  point  in  darkness. 


II. 

THE   FRIEND    AND   BROTHER. 

WHILE  Abbe  Cavelier  stood  in  the  store 
house,  Tonty,  a  few  miles  away,  was 
setting  his  camp  around  a  spring  of  sulphur 
water  well  known  to  the  hunters  of  St.  Louis. 
The  spring  boiled  its  white  sand  from  un 
measured  depths  at  the  root  of  an  oak,  and 
spread  a  pool  which  slipped  over  its  barrier  in 
a  thin  stream  to  the  Illinois. 

Though  so  near  his  fortress,  Tonty  and  Grey- 
solon  du  Lhut,  fresh  from  their  victorious  cam 
paign  with  the  governor  of  New  France  against 
the  Iroquois,  thought  it  not  best  to  expose  their 
long  array  of  canoes  in  darkness  on  the  river. 
They  had  with  them l  women  and  children,  — 

1  "  On  his  return  he  brought  back  with  him  the  families  of 
a  number  of  French  immigrants,  soldiers,  and  traders.  This 
arrival  of  the  wives,  sisters,  children,  and  sweethearts  of  some 
of  the  colonists,  after  years  of  separation,  was  the  occasion  of 
great  rejoicing."  —  John  Moses'  History  of  Illinois. 


THE  FRIEND  AND  BROTHER.  177 

fragments  of  families,  going   under  their  escort 
to  join  the  colony  at  Fort  St.   Louis. 

Du  Lhut's  army  of  Indians  from  the  upper 
lakes  had  returned  directly  to  their  own  villages 
to  celebrate  the  victory;  but  that  unwearied 
rover  himself,  with  a  few  followers,  had  dragged 
his  gouty  limbs  across  portages  to  the  Illinois, 
to  sojourn  longer  with  Tonty. 

Their  camp  was  some  distance  from  the  river, 
up  an  alluvial  slope  of  the  north  shore.  Op 
posite,  a  line  of  cliffs,  against  which  the  Illinois 
washes  for  miles,  caught  the  eye  through  dark 
ness  by  its  sandy  glint ;  and  not  far  away,  on  the 
north  side  of  the  river,  that  long  ridge  known  as 
Buffalo  Rock  made  a  mass  of  gloom. 

Dependent  and  unarmed  colonists  were  placed 
in  the  centre  of  the  camp.  Tonty  himself,  with 
his  usual  care  on  this  journey,  had  helped  to 
pitch  a  tent  of  blankets  and  freshly  cut  poles 
for  Mademoiselle  Barbe  Cavelier  and  the  offi 
cer's  wife,  who  clung  to  her  in  the  character  of 
guardian.  The  other  immigrants  understood 
and  took  pleasure  in  this  small  temporary  home, 
built  nightly  for  a  girl  whose  proud  silence 
among  them  they  forgave  as  the  caprice  of 
beauty.  The  wife  of  the  officer  Bellefontaine, 


I78  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

on  her  part,  rewarded  Tonty  by  attaching  her 
ceaseless  presence  to  Barbe.  She  was  a  timid 
woman,  very  small-eyed  and  silent,  who  took 
refuge  in  Barbe's  larger  shadow,  and  found  it 
convenient  for  an  under-sized  duenna  whose 
husband  was  so  far  in  the  wilds. 

Mademoiselle  Cavelier  was  going  to  Fort 
St.  Louis  at  the  first  opportunity  since  her 
uncle  La  Salle's  request,  made  three  years 
before. 

At  this  time  it  was  not  known  whether 
La  Salle  had  succeeded  or  failed  in  his  last 
enterprise.  He  had  again  convinced  the  king. 
His  seigniories  and  forts  were  restored  to  him, 
and  governor's  agents  and  associates  driven  out 
of  his  possessions.  He  had  sailed  from  France 
with  a  fleet  of  ships,  carrying  a  large  colony  to 
plant  at  the  Mississippi's  mouth.  His  brother 
the  Abbe  Cavelier,  two  nephews,  priests,  arti 
sans,  young  men,  and  families  were  in  his  com 
pany,  which  altogether  numbered  over  four 
hundred  people. 

Fogs  or  storms,  or  dogged  navigators  dis 
agreeing  with  and  disobeying  him,  had  robbed 
him  of  his  destination;  for  news  came  back 
to  France,  by  a  returning  ship,  of  loss  and 


THE  FRIEND   AND   BROTHER.  179 

disaster  and  a  colony  dropped  like  castaways 
on  some  inlet  of  the  Gulf. 

The  evening  meal  was  eaten  and  sentinels  were 
posted.  Even  petulant  children  had  ceased  to 
fret  within  the  various  enclosures.  Indians  and 
Frenchmen  lay  asleep  under  their  canoes  which 
they  had  carried  from  the  river,  and  by  prop 
ping  with  stones  or  stakes  at  one  side,  converted 
into  low-roofed  shelters. 

Barbe's  tent  was  beside  the  spring  near  the 
camp-fire.  She  could,  by  parting  overlapped 
blanket  edges,  look  out  of  her  cloth  house  into 
those  living  depths  of  bubbling  white  sand,  so 
like  the  thoughts  of  young  maids.  Two  or 
three  fallen  leaves,  curled  into  quaint  craft,  slid 
across  the  pool's  surface,  hung  at  its  barrier, 
and  one  after  the  other  slipped  over  and  dis 
appeared  along  the  thread  of  water.  A  hollow 
of  light  was  scooped  above  the  camp-fire,  out 
side  of  which  darkness  stood  an  impenetrable 
rind,  for  the  sky  had  all  day  been  thickened  by 
clouds. 

The  Demoiselle  Bellefontaine,  tucked  neatly 
as  a  mole  under  her  ridge,  rested  from  her 
fears  in  sleep;  and  Barbe  made  ready  to  lie 
down  also,  sweeping  once  more  the  visible 


I  So  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

world  with  a  lingering  eye.  She  saw  an  Indian 
creeping  on  hands  and  knees  toward  Tonty's 
lodge.  He  entered  darkness  the  moment  she  saw 
him.  The  girl  arose  trembling  and  put  on  her 
clothes.  She  had  caught  no  impression  of  his 


tribe ;  but  if  he  were  a  warrior  of  the  camp, 
his  crawling  so  secretly  must  threaten  harm  to 
Tonty.  She  did  not  distinctly  know  what  she 
ought  to  do,  except  warn  Monsieur  de  Tonty. 

But  on  a  sudden  the  iron-handed  comman 
dant  ran  past  her  tent,  shouting  to  his  men. 
There  was  a  sound  like  the  rushing  of  bees 
through  the  air,  and  horrible  faces  smeared 
with  paint,  tattooed  bodies,  and  hands  brandish 
ing  weapons  closed  in  from  darkness;  the 
men  of  the  camp  rose  up  with  answering  yells, 


THE  FRIEND  AND  BROTHER,  l8l 

and  the  flash  and  roar  of  muskets  surrounded 
Barbe  as  if  she  were  standing  in  some  night 
mare  world  of  lightning  and  thunder.  She 
heard  the  screams  of  children  and  frightened 
mothers.  She  saw  Tonty  in  meteor  rushes 
rallying  men,  and  striking  down,  with  nothing 
but  his  iron  hand,  a  foe  who  had  come  to  quar 
ters  too  close  for  fire-arms.  Indian  after  Indian 
fell  under  that  sledge,  and  a  cry  of  terror  in 
Iroquois  French,  which  she  could  understand, 
rose  through  the  whoop  of  invasion,  — 

"  The  Great-Medicine-Hand !  The  Great- 
Medicine-Hand  !  " 

Brands  were  caught  from  the  fire  and  thrown 
like  bolts,  sparks  hissing  as  they  flew.  Her 
tent  was  overturned  and  she  fell  under  it  with 
the  Demoiselle  Bellefontaine,  who  uttered  muf 
fled  squeals. 

When  Barbe  dragged  her  companion  out  of 
the  midst  of  poles,  all  the  hurricane  of  action 
had  passed  by.  Its  rush  could  be  heard  down 
the  slope,  then  the  splashing  of  bodies  and 
tumultuous  paddling  in  the  river.  Guns  yet 
flashed.  She  heard  Frenchmen  and  Illinois 
running  with  their  canoes  down  to  the  water  to 
give  chase.  Farther  and  farther  away  sounded 


I  82  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

the  retreat,  and  though  women  and  children 
continued  to  make  outcry,  Barbe  could  hear 
no  groans. 

The  brands  of  the  fire  were  still  scattered,  but 
hands  were  busy  collecting  and  bringing  them 
back,  —  processions  of  gigantic  glow-worms  meet 
ing  by  dumb  appointment  in  a  nest  of  hot  ashes 
and  trodden  logs.  All  faces  were  drowned  in 
the  dark  until  these  re-united  embers  fitfully 
brought  them  out.  A  crowd  of  frightened  im 
migrants  drew  around  the  blaze,  calling  each 
other  by  name,  and  demanding  to  know  who 
was  scalped. 

Barbe  saw  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  stand 
beside  her  wrecked  tent,  and  the  Demoiselle 
Bellefontaine  burrowed  closely  to  her,  uttering 
distressed  noises. 

The  pursuers  presently  returned  and  quieted 
the  camp.  Tonty  had  not  lost  a  man,  though  a 
few  were  wounded.  The  attacking  party  carried 
off  with  them  every  trace  of  their  repulse. 

Overturned  lodges  were  now  set  straight,  and 
as  soon  as  Bellefontaine's  wife  found  hers  inhabi 
table  she  hid  herself  within  it.  But  Barbe  waited 
to  ask  the  busy  commandant,  — 

"  Monsieur  de  Tonty,  have  you  any  wound?  " 


THE  FRIEND   AND  BROTHER.  183 

"  No,  mademoiselle,"  he  answered,  pausing  to 
breathe  himself,  and  seize  upon  an  interview  so 
unusual.  "  I  hope  you  have  not  been  greatly 
disturbed.  The  Iroquois  are  now  entirely  driven 
off,  and  they  will  not  venture  to  attack  us 
again." 

With  excited  voice  Barbe  assured  him  she  had 
remained  tranquil  through  the  battle. 

"  We  do  not  call  this  a  battle,"  laughed  Tonty. 
"  These  were  a  party  of  Senecas,  who  rallied  after 
defeat  and  have  followed  us  to  our  own  country. 
They  tried  to  take  the  camp  by  surprise,  and 
nearly  did  it;  but  Sanomp  crept  between  senti 
nels  and  waked  me." 

"  Who  is  Sanomp,  monsieur?" 

"  Do  you  remember  the  Iroquois  Indian  who 
came  to  Father  Hennepin's  chapel  at  Fort 
Frontenac?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur  ;  was  he  among  these 
Senecas?" 

"  The  Senecas  are  his  tribe  of  the  Iroquois, 
mademoiselle.  He  was  among  them;  but  he 
has  left  his  people  for  my  sake.  These  Indians 
have  visions  and  obey  them.  He  said  the  time 
had  come  for  him  to  follow  me." 

"  Sanomp  was  then  the  Indian  I  saw  creeping 


1 84  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

toward  your  tent.     Did  he  fight  against  his  own 
people?  " 

"  No,  mademoiselle.  While  Du  Lhut  and  I 
flew  to  rouse  the  camp,  he  sat  doggedly  down 
where  he  found  me.  This  was  a  last  chance  for 
the  Senecas.  We  are  so  near  Fort  St.  Louis, 
and  almost  within  shouting  distance  of  our 
Miamis  on  Buffalo  Rock.  Such  security  makes 
sentinels  careless.  Sanomp  crept  ahead  of  the 
others  and  whispered  in  my  ear,  taking  his 
chance  of  being  brained  before  I  understood 
him.  He  has  proved  himself  my  friend  and 
brother,  mademoiselle,  to  do  this  for  me,  and 
moreover  to  bear  the  shame  of  sitting  crouched 
like  a  squaw  through  a  fray." 

"  Everybody  loves  and  fears  Monsieur  de 
Tonty,"1  observed  Barbe,  with  sedate  accent. 

Tonty  breathed  deeply. 

"  Am  I  an  object  of  fear  to  you,  mademoi 
selle?  Doubtless  I  have  grown  like  a  buffalo," 
he  ruminated.  "  Perhaps  you  feel  a  natural  aver 
sion  toward  a  man  bearing  a  hand  of  iron." 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  seemed  a  great  conven 
ience  among  the  Indians,"  murmured  Barbe, 
and  Tonty  laughed  and  stood  silent. 

1  "  He  was  loved  and  feared  by  all,"  says  St.-Cosme. 


THE  FRIEND  AND  BROTHER.  185 

The  camp  was  again  settling  to  rest,  and  fewer 
swarming  figures  peopled  the  darkness.  Wind 
ing  and  aspiring  through  new  fuel  the  camp-fire 
once  more  began  to  lift  its  impalpable  pavilion, 
and  groups  sat  around  it  beneath  that  canopy  of 
tremulous  light,  with  rapid  talk  and  gesture  re 
peating  to  each  other  their  impressions  of  the 
Senecas'  attack. 

"Mademoiselle,"  said  Tonty,  lifting  his  left 
hand  to  his  bare  head,  for  he  had  rushed  hat- 
less  into  action,  "  good-night  The  guards  are 
doubled.  You  are  more  secure  than  when  you 
lay  down  before." 

"  Good-night,  monsieur,"  replied  Barbe,  and  he 
opened  her  tent  for  her,  when  she  turned  back. 

"  Monsieur  de  Tonty,"  she  whispered  swiftly, 
"  I  have  had  no  chance  during  this  long  journey, 
—  for  with  you  alone  would  I  speak  of  it,  —  to 
demand  if  you  believe  that  saying  against  your 
self  which  they  are  wickedly  charging  to  my 
uncle  La  Salle?  " 

"  Mademoiselle,  how  could  I  believe  that  Mon 
sieur  de  la  Salle  said  in  France  he  wished  to  be 
rid  of  me?  One  laughs  at  a  rumor  like  that." 

"  The  tales  lately  told  about  his  madness  are 
more  than  I  can  bear." 


1 86  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

"  Mademoiselle,  Monsieur  de  la  Salle's  enemies 
always  called  his  great  enterprises  madness." 

"  Can  you  imagine  where  he  now  is,  Mon 
sieur  de  Tonty?  " 

"  Oh,  heavens !  "  Tonty  groaned.  "  Often 
have  I  said  to  myself,  —  Has  Monsieur  de  la  Salle 
been  two  years  in  America,  and  I  have  not 
joined  him,  or  even  spoken  with  him?  It  is  not 
my  fault !  As  soon  as  I  believed  he  had  reached 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico  I  descended  the  Mississippi. 
I  searched  all  those  countries,  every  cape  and 
every  shore.  I  demanded  of  all  the  natives 
where  he  was,  and  not  one  could  tell  me  a  word. 
Judge  of  my  pain  and  my  dolor." 

They  stood  in  such  silence  as  could  result  from 
two  people's  ceasing  to  murmur  in  the  midst  of 
high-pitched  voices. 

"  Monsieur  de  Tonty,"  resumed  Barbe,  "  do 
you  remember  Jeanne  le  Ber?  " 

"  Mademoiselle,  I  never  saw  her." 

"  She  refused  my  uncle  La  Salle  at  Fort  Fron- 
tenac,  and  I  detested  her  for  it.  In  the  new 
church  at  Montreal  she  has  had  a  cell  made  be 
hind  the  altar.  There  she  prays  day  and  night. 

1  Tonty's  words  in  "  Dernieres  Decouvertes  dans  L'Amerique 
Septentrional." 


THE  FRIEND  AND  BROTHER.  1 87 

She  wears  only  a  blanket,  but  the  nun  who 
feeds  her  says  her  face  is  like  an  angel's.  Mon 
sieur,  Jeanne  le  Ber  fell  with  her  head  bumping 
the  floor,  —  and  I  understood  her.  She  had  a 
spirit  fit  to  match  with  my  uncle  La  Salle's.  She 
thought  she  was  right.  I  forgave  her  then,  for  I 
know,  monsieur,  she  loved  my  uncle  La  Salle." 

When  Barbe  had  spoken  such  daring  words 
she  stepped  inside  her  tent  and  dropped  its 
curtain. 


T 


III. 

HALF-SILENCE. 

HE  October  of  the  Mississippi  valley  —  full 
of  mild  nights  and  mellow  days  and  the 
shine  of  ripened  corn—  next  morning  floated  all 
the  region  around  Fort  St.  Louis  in  silver  vapor. 
The  two  small  cannon  on  the  Rock  began  to  roar 
salutes  as  soon  as  Tonty's  line  of  canoes  appeared 
moving  down  the  river. 

To  Barbe  this  was  an  enchanted  land.  She 
sat  by  the  Demoiselle  Bellefontaine  and  watched 
its  populous  beauty  unfold.  Blue  lodge-smoke 
arose  everywhere.  Tonty  pointed  out  the  Shaw- 
nee  settlement  eastward,  and  the  great  town  of 
the  Illinois  northwest  of  the  Rock,  —  a  city  of 
high  lodges  shaped  like  the  top  of  a  modern 
emigrant  wagon.  He  told  where  Piankishaws 
and  Weas  might  be  distinguished,  how  many 
Shawanoes  were  settled  beyond  the  ravine  back 
of  the  Rock,  and  how  many  thousand  people, 
altogether,  were  collected  in  this  principality 
of  Monsieur  de  la  Salle. 


HALF-SILENCE.  1 89 

A  castellated  cliff  with  turrets  of  glittering 
sandstone  towered  above  the  boats,  but  beyond 
that,  —  round,  bold,  and  isolated,  its  rugged 
breasts  decked  with  green,  its  base  washed  by 
the  river,  —  the  Rock 1  of  St.  Louis  waited  what 
ever  might  be  coming  in  its  eternal  leisure. 
Frenchmen  and  Indians  leaped  upon  earthworks 
at  its  top  and  waved  a  welcome  side  by  side,  the 
flag  of  France  flying  above  their  heads. 

At  Barbe's  right  hand  lay  an  alluvial  valley 
bordered  by  a  ridge  of  hills  a  mile  away.  Along 
this  ancient  river-bed  Indian  women  left  off 
gathering  maize  from  standing  stalks,  and  ran 
joyfully  crying  out  to  receive  their  victorious 
warriors.  Inmates  poured  from  the  settlement 
of  French  cabins  opposite  and  around  the  Rock 
With  cannon  booming  overhead,  Tonty  passed  its 
base  followed  by  the  people  who  were  to  ascend 
with  him,  and  landed  west  of  it,  on  a  sandy  strip 
where  the  voyager  could  lay  his  hand  on  that 
rugged  fern-tufted  foundation.  Barbe  and  the 
Demoiselle  Bellefontaine  followed  him  along  a 
path  cut  through  thickets,  around  moss-softened 
irregular  heights  of  sandstone,  girdled  in  below 

1  Parkman  states  its  actual  height  to  be  only  a  hundred  and 
twenty-five  feet. 


190  THE   STORY  OF   TONTY. 

and  bulging  out  above,  so  that  no  man  could 
obtain  foothold  to  scale  them.  Gnarled  tree-roots, 
like  folds  of  snakes  caught  between  closing  strata, 
hung,  writhed  in  and  out.  The  path,  under  pine 
needles  and  fallen  leaves,  was  cushioned  with 
sand  white  as  powdered  snow.  Behind  the  Rock, 
stretching  toward  a  ravine,  were  expanses  of  this 
lily  sand  which  looked  fresh  from  the  hands  of 
the  Maker,  as  if  even  a  raindrop  had  never  in 
dented  its  whiteness. 

Three  or  four  foot-holes  were  cut  in  the  south 
east  flank  of  rock  wall.  An  Indian  ran  down 
from  above  and  flung  a  rope  over  to  Tonty.  He 
mounted  these  rocky  stirrups  first,  helped  by  the 
rope,  and  knelt  to  reach  back  for  Barbe  and  the 
Demoiselle  Bellefontaine.  The  next  ascent  was 
up  water-terraced  rock  to  an  angle  as  high  as 
their  waists.  Here  two  more  stirrups  were  cut  in 
the  rock.  Ferns  brushed  their  faces,  and  shrubs 
stooped  over  them.  The  heights  were  studded 
thick  with  gigantic  trees  half-stripped  of  leaves. 
Rust-colored  lichens  and  lichens  hoary  like 
blanched  old  men,  spread  their  great  seals  on 
stone  and  soil. 

Wide  water-terraced  steps,  looking  as  if  cut  for 
a  temple,  ascended  at  last  to  the  gate.      Through 


HALF-SILENCE.  191 

this  Tonty  led  his  charge  upon  a  dimpled  sward, 
for  care  had  been  taken  to  keep  turf  alive  in  Fort 
St.  Louis. 

Recognition  and  joy  were  the  first  sensations 
of  many  immigrants  entering,  as  the  people  they 
loved  received  them.  But  Barbe  felt  only  deli 
cious  freedom  in  such  a  crag  castle.  There  was 
a  sound  of  the  sea  in  pine  trees  all  around.  The 
top  of  the  Rock  was  nearly  an  acre  in  extent. 
It  was  fortified  by  earthworks,  except  the  cliff 
above  the  river,  which  was  set  with  palisades  and 
the  principal  dwellings  of  the  fort.  There  were 
besides,  a  storehouse,  a  block-house,  and  several 
Indian  lodges.  But  the  whole  space  —  so  shaded 
yet  so  sunny,  reared  high  in  air  yet  sheltered 
as  a  nest  —  was  itself  such  a  temple  of  security 
that  any  buildings  within  it  seemed  an  imperti 
nence.  The  centre,  bearing  its  flagstaff,  was  left 
open. 

Two  priests,  a  Recollet  and  a  Sulpitian,  met 
Tonty  and  the  girl  he  led  in,  the  Sulpitian  re 
ceiving  her  in  his  arms  and  bestowing  a  kiss  on 
her  forehead. 

"  Oh,  my  uncle  Abbe  !  "  Barbe  gasped  with  sur 
prise.  "  Is  Colin  with  you?  Is  my  uncle  La 
Salle  here?" 


I92  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

But  Tonty,  swifter  than  the  Abbe's  reply,  laid 
hold  of  the  Recollet  Father  and  drew  him  beside 
Abbe  Cavelier,  demanding  without  greeting  or 
pause  for  courteous  compliment,  — 

"  Is  Monsieur  de  la  Salle  safe  and  well?  You 
both  come  from  Monsieur  de  la  Salle !  " 

"  He  was  well  when  we  parted  from  him,"  re 
plied  the  Abbe  Cavelier,  looking  at  a  bunch  of 
maiden-hair  fern  which  Barbe  had  caught  from  a 
ledge  and  tucked  in  the  bosom  of  her  gown. 
''We  left  him  on  the  north  branch  of  the  Trinity 
River,  Monsieur  de  Tonty." 

The  Recollet  said  nothing,  but  kept  his  eyes 
fixed  on  his  folded  hands.      Tonty,  too   eager  to 
mark  well  both  bearers  of  such  news,  demanded 
again  impartially,  - 
"  And  he  was  well?  " 

"  He  left  us  in  excellent  health,  monsieur." 
"  How  glad  I  am  to  find  you  in  Fort  St. 
Louis!"  exclaimed  Tonty.  "This  is  the  first 
direct  message  I  have  had  from  Monsieur  de  la 
Salle  since  he  sailed  from  France.  How  many 
men  are  in  your  party?  Have  you  been  made 
comfortable?  " 

"  Only   six,   monsieur.      We   have  been  made 
quite  comfortable  by  your  officer  Bellefontaine." 


HALF-SILENCE.  1 9  5 

"  Monsieur  the  Abbe,  where  did  Monsieur  dc 
la  Salle  land  his  colony?  " 

"  On  a  western  coast  of  the  Gulf,  monsieur. 
It  was  most  unfortunate.  Ever  since  he  has 
been  searching  for  the  Mississippi." 

"  While  I  searched  for  him.  Oh,  Fathers!" 
Tonty's  voice  deepened  and  his  swarthy  joyful 
face  set  its  contrast  opposite  two  downcast 
churchmen,  "  nothing  in  Fort  St.  Louis  is  good 
enough  for  messengers  from  Monsieur  de  la 
Salle.  What  can  I  do  for  you?  Did  he  send  me 
no  orders?  " 

"  He  did  commit  a  paper  to  my  hand,  naming 
skins  and  merchandise  that  he  would  have  de 
livered  to  me,  as  well  as  a  canoe  and  provisions 
for  our  journey  to  New  France." 

"  Come,  let  me  see  this  paper,"  demanded 
Tonty.  "  Whatever  Monsieur  de  la  Salle  or 
ders  shall  be  done  at  once ;  but  the  season  is 
now  so  advanced  you  will  not  push  on  to  New 
France  until  spring." 

"  That  is  the  very  reason,  Monsieur  de  Tonty, 
why  we  should  push  on  at  once.  We  have 
waited  a  month  for  your  return.  I  leave  Fort 
St.  Louis  with  my  party  to-morrow,  if  you  will 
so  forward  my  wishes." 


I96  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

"  Monsieur  the  Abbe,  it  is  impossible !  You 
have  yet  told  me  nothing  of  all  it  is  necessary 
for  me  to  know  touching  Monsieur  de  la  Salle." 

"To-morrow,"  repeated  the  Abbe  Cavelier, 
"  I  must  set  out  at  dawn,  if  you  can  honor  my 
brother's  paper." 

Tonty,  with  a  gesture  of  his  left  hand,  led 
the  way  to  his  quarters  across  the  esplanade. 
As  Barbe  walked  behind  the  Recollet  Father, 
she  wondered  why  he  had  given  no  answer  to 
any  of  Tonty's  questions. 

Her  brother  advanced  to  meet  her,  and  she 
ran  and  gave  him  her  hands  and  her  cheek 
to  kiss.  They  had  been  apart  four  years,  and 
looked  at  each  other  with  scrutinizing  gaze. 
He  overtopped  her  by  a  head.  Barbe  expected 
to  find  him  tall  and  rudely  masculine,  but  there 
was  change  in  him  for  which  she  was  not 
prepared. 

"  My  sister  has  grown  charming,"  pronounced 
Colin.  "Not  as  large  as  the  Caveliers  usually 
are,  but  like  a  bird  exquisite  in  make  and 
graceful  motion." 

"Oh,  Colin,  what  is  the  matter?"  demanded 
Barbe,  with  direct  dart.  "  I  see  concealment 
in  your  face  !  " 


HALF-SILENCE. 


197 


"What  do  you  see  concealed?  Perhaps  you 
will  tell  me  that."  He  became  mottled  with 
those  red  and  white  spots  which  are  the  blood's 
protest  against  the  will. 

"  The  Recollect  Father  did  not  answer  a  word 
to  Monsieur  de  Tonty's  questions,  Colin;  and 
the  voice  of  my  uncle  the  Abbe  sounded  un 
natural.  Is  there  wicked  power  in  those  coun 
tries  you  have  visited  to  make  you  all  come 
back  like  men  half  asleep  from  some  drug?" 

"Yes,  there  is!  "  exclaimed  the  boy;  "I  hate 
that  wilderness.  When  we  are  once  in  France 
I  will  never  venture  into  such  wilds  again. 
They  dull  me  until  my  tongue  seems  dead." 

"  And,  Colin,  you  did  leave  my  uncle  La  Salle 
quite  well?  " 

"  It  was  he  who  left  us.  He  was  in  excellent 
health  the  last  time  we  saw  him."  The  boy 
spoke  these  words  with  precision,  and  Barbe 
sighed  her  relief. 

"  For  myself,"  she  said,  "  I  love  this  wild 
world.  I  shall  stay  here  until  my  uncle  La  Salle 
arrives." 

"Our  uncle  the  Abbe  will  decide  that,"  re 
plied  Colin.  "  It  is  unfortunate  that  you  left 
Montreal.  Your  only  hope  of  staying  here 


I98  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

rests  on  the  hard  journey  before  us,  and  the 
risks  we  run  of  meeting  winter  on  the  way.  I 
wish  you  had  been  sent  to  France.  I  wish  we 
were  all  in  France  now."  Colin's  face  relaxed 

wistfully. 

Two  crows  were  scolding  in  the  trees  below 
them.  Barbe  felt  ready  to  weep;  as  if  the 
tender  spirit  of  autumn  had  stolen  through  her, 
as  mists  steal  along  the  hills.  She  sat  down  on 
the  grassy  earthwork,  and  Colin  picked  some 
pine  needles  from  a  branch  and  stood  silent 
beside  her,  chewing  them. 

But  those  vague  moods  which  haunt  girlhood 
held  always  short  dominion  over  Barbe.  She 
was  in  close  kinship  with  the  world  around,  and 
the  life  of  the  fort  began  to  occupy  her. 

The  Rock  was  like  a  small  fair  with  its  addi 
tional  inhabitants,  who  were  still  running  about 
in  a  confusion  of  joyful  noises.  Children,  de~ 
lighted  to  be  freed  from  canoes  at  so  bright  a 
time  of  day,  raced  across  the  centre,  or  hid 
behind  wigwam  or  tree,  calling  to  each  other. 
An  Indian  stalked  across  to  the  front  of  the 
Rock,  and  Barbe  watched  him  reach  out  through 
an  opening  in  the  low  log  palisade.  A  platform 
was  there  built  on  the  trunks  of  two  leaning  cedars. 


HALF-SILENCE.  199 

The  Indian  unwound  a  windlass  and  let  down 
a  bucket  to  the  river  below.  She  heard  its 
distant  splash  and  some  of  its  resounding  drips 
on  the  way  up.  Living  in  Fort  St.  Louis  was 
certainly  like  living  on  a  cloud. 

"  I  will  go  into  the  officers'  house,"  suggested 
Colin,  "and  see  how  the  Abbe's  demands  are 
met  by  Monsieur  de  Tonty.  We  shall  then 
know  if  we  are  to  set  out  for  Quebec  to-morrow." 


IV. 

A   FETE    ON   THE   ROCK.1 

T)ARBE  did  not  object  or  assent.  Youth 
-*-^  shoves  off  any  evil  day  by  ignoring  it, 
and  Colin  left  her  in  lazy  enjoyment  of  the 
populous  place. 

The  Demoiselle  Bellefontaine  approached  to 
ask  if  she  desired  to  come  to  the  apartment 
the  commandant  reserved  for  her;  but  Barbe 
replied  that  she  wished  to  sit  there  and  amuse 
herself  awhile  longer  with  the  novelty  of  Fort 
St.  Louis. 

A  child  she  had  noticed  on  the  journey 
brought  her,  as  great  treasure,  a  handful  of 
flints  and  crumble-dust  from  the  sandstone. 
They  sorted  the  stuff  on  her  knee,  —  fat-faced 
dark  French  child  and  young  girl  fine  enough 
to  be  the  sylvan  spirit  of  the  Rock. 

1  "  The  joyous  French  held  balls,  gay  suppers,  and  wine 
parties  on  the  Rock."  —  Old  History  of  Illinois. 


A   FETE    ON   THE   ROC  A'.  2QI 

Mademoiselle  Cavelier's  wardrobe  was  by  no 
means  equal  to  that  gorgeous  period  in  which 
she  lived,  being  planned  by  her  uncle  the  Abbe 
and  executed  by  the  frugal  and  exact  hands  of 
a  self-denying  sisterhood.  But  who  can  hide 
a  girl's  supple  slimness  in  a  gown  plain  as  a 
nun's,  or  take  the  blossom-burnish  off  her  face 
with  colonial  caps?  Dark  curls  showed  around 
her  temples.  Barbe's  aquiline  face  had  received 
scarcely  a  mark  since  Tonty  saw  it  at  Fort 
Frontenac.  The  gentle  monotonous  restraint 
of  convent  life  had  calmed  her  wild  impulses, 
and  she  was  in  that  trance  of  expecting  great 
things  to  come,  which  is  the  beautiful  birthright 
of  youth. 

While  she  was  sorting  arrow-head  chips,  her 
uncle  came  out  of  Tonty's  quarters  and  cast 
his  eye  about  the  open  space  in  search  of  her. 
At  his  approach  Barbe's  playmate  slipped  away, 
and  the  Abbe  placed  himself  in  front  of  her 
with  his  hands  behind  him. 

Barbe  gave  him  a  scanty  look,  feeling  sure 
he  came  to  announce  the  next  day's  journey. 
This  man,  having  many  excellences,  yet  roused 
constant  antagonism  in  his  brother  and  the 
niece  most  like  that  brother.  When  he  pro- 


2O2  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

truded  his  lower  lip  and  looked  determined, 
Barbe  thought  if  the  sin  could  be  set  aside  a 
plunge  in  the  river  would  be  better  than  this 
journey. 

"  I  have  a  proposal  for  you,  my  child,"  said  the 
Abbe.  "  It  comes  from  Monsieur  de  Tonty. 
He  tells  me  my  brother  La  Salle  encouraged 
him  to  hope  for  this  alliance,  and  I  must  declare 
I  see  no  other  object  my  brother  -La  Salle  had 
in  view  when  he  sent  you  to  Fort  St.  Louis. 
Monsieur  de  Tonty  understands  the  state  of  your 
fortune.  On  his  part,  he  holds  this  seigniory 
jointly  with  my  brother,  and  the  traffic  he  is 
able  to  control  brings  no  mean  revenue.  It  is 
true  he  lacks  a  hand.  But  it  hath  been  well  re 
placed  by  the  artificer,  and  he  comes  of  an 
Italian  family  of  rank." 

Barbe's  head  was  turned  so  entirely  away  that 
the  mere  back  of  a  scarlet  ear  was  left  to  the 
Abbe.  One  hand  clutched  her  lap  and  the  other 
pulled  grass  with  destructive  fingers. 

"  Having  stated  Monsieur  de  Tonty's  case  I 
will  now  state  mine,"  proceeded  her  uncle.  "  I 
leave  this  fort  before  to-morrow  dawn.  I  must 
take  you  with  me  or  leave  you  here  a  bride. 
The  journey  is  perilous  for  a  small  party  and  we 


A    FETE    ON   THE  ROCK. 


203 


may  not  reach  France  until  next  year.  And  an 
alliance  like  this  will  hardly  be  found  in  France 
for  a  girl  of  uncertain  fortune.  Therefore  I 
have  betrothed  you  to  Monsieur  de  Tonty,  and 
you  will  be  married  this  evening  at  vespers." 


"  You  have  stated  Monsieur  de  Tonty's  case, 
and  you  have  stated  yours,"  said  Barbe.  "  I  will 
now  state  mine.  I  will  not  be  married  to  any 
man  at  a  day's  notice." 

"May  I  ask  what  it  is  you  demand,  made 
moiselle?"  inquired  the  Abbe,  with  irony,  "if 
you  propose  to  re-arrange  any  marriage  your 
relatives  make  for  you." 

"  I  demand  a  week  between  the  betrothal  and 
the  marriage." 


204  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

"  A  week,  mademoiselle  !  "  her  uncle  laughed. 
"  We  who  set  out  must  give  winter  a  week's 
start  of  us  for  such  a  whim  !  You  will  be  mar 
ried  to-night  or  you  will  return  with  me  to 
France.  I  will  now  send  Monsieur  de  Tonty  to 
you  to  be  received  as  your  future  husband." 

"  I  will  scratch  him  !  "  exclaimed  Barbe,  with  a 
flash  of  perverseness,  at  which  her  uncle's  cas- 
socked  shoulders  shook  until  he  disappeared 
within  doors. 

She  left  the  earthwork  and  went  to  the 
entrance  side  of  the  fort.  There  she  stood, 
whispering  with  a  frown,  —  "Oh,  if  you  please, 
monsieur,  keep  your  distance !  Do  not  come 
here  as  any  future  husband  of  mine  !  " 

She  had,  however,  much  time  in  which  to 
prepare  her  mind  before  Tonty  appeared. 

All  eyes  on  the  Rock  followed  him.  He  shone 
through  the  trees,  a  splendid  figure  in  the  gold 
and  white  uniform  of  France,  laid  aside  for  years 
but  resumed  on  this  great  occasion. 

When  he  came  up  to  Barbe  he  stopped  and 
folded  his  arms,  saying  whimsically,  - 

"  Mademoiselle,  I  have  not  the  experience  to 
know  how  one  should  approach  his  betrothed. 
I  never  was  married  before." 


A    FETE   ON  THE   ROCK.  2O$ 

"  It  is  my  case,  also,  monsieur,"  replied  Barbe. 
"How    do    you    like  Fort    St.  Louis?"    pro 
ceeded  Tonty. 

"  I  am  enchanted  with  it." 
"  You  delight  me  when  you  say  that.  Dur 
ing  the  last  four  years  I  have  not  made  an 
improvement  about  the  land  or  in  any  way 
strengthened  this  position  without  thinking, 
Mademoiselle  Cavelier  may  sometime  approve 
of  this.  We  are  finding  a  new  way  of  heating 
our  houses  with  underground  flues  made  of 
stone  and  mortar." 

"  That  must  be  agreeable,   monsieur." 
"  We  often  have  hunting  parties  from  the  Rock. 
This  country  is  full  of  game." 

"  It  is  pleasant  to  amuse  one's  self,  monsieur." 
Tonty  had  many  a  time  seen  the  silent  court 
ship  of  the  Illinois.  He  thought  now  of  those 
motionless  figures  sitting  side  by  side  under  a 
shelter  of  rushes  or  bark  from  morning  till  night 
without  exchanging  a  word. 

"  Mademoiselle,  I  hope  this  marriage  is  agree 
able  to  you?  " 

"Monsieur   de  Tonty,"    exclaimed   Barbe,  ' 
have  simply  been  flung  at  your  head  to  suit  the 
convenience  of  my  relatives." 


2O6  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

"  Was  that  distasteful  to  you?"  he  wistfully 
inquired. 

"  I  am  not  fit  for  a  bride.  No  preparation 
has  been  made  for  me." 

"  I  thought  of  making  some  preparation  my 
self,"  confessed  Tonty.  "  I  got  a  web  of  bro 
caded  silk  from  France  several  years  ago." 

"  To  be  clothed  like  a  princess  by  one's  bride 
groom,"  said  Barbe,  wringing  her  gown  skirt  and 
twisting  folds  of  it  in  her  fingers.  "  That  might 
be  submitted  to.  But  I  could  not  wear  the  web 
of  brocade  around  me  like  a  blanket." 

"  There  are  fifty  needlewomen  on  the  Rock 
who  can  make  it  in  a  day,  mademoiselle." 

*'  And  in  short,  monsieur,  to  be  betrothed  in 
the  morning  and  married  the  same  day  is  what 
no  girl  will  submit  to  !  " 

Tonty,  in  the  prime  of  his  manhood  and  his 
might  as  a  lover  was  too  imposing  a  figure  for 
her  to  face ;  she  missed  seeing  his  swarthy  pallor 
as  he  answered,  — 

"  I  understand  from  all  this,  mademoiselle, 
that  you  care  nothing  for  me.  I  have  felt  be 
trothed  to  you  ever  since  I  declared  myself  to 
Monsieur  de  la  Salle  at  Fort  Frontenac.  How 
your  pretty  dreaming  of  the  Rock  of  St.  Louis 


A    FETE   ON  THE  ROCK.  2O? 

and  your  homesick  cry  for  this  place  did  pierce 
me !  I  said,  '  She  shall  be  my  wife,  and  I  will 
bring  home  everything  that  can  be  obtained  for 
her.  That  small  face  shall  be  heart's  treasure 
to  me.  Its  eyes  will  watch  for  me  over  the 
Rock.'  On  our  journey  here,  many  a  night  I 
took  my  blanket  and  lay  beside  your  tent, 
thanking  the  saints  for  the  sweet  privilege  of 
bringing  home  my  bride.  Mademoiselle,"  said 
Tonty,  trembling,  "  I  will  kill  any  other  man 
who  dares  approach  you.  Yet,  mademoiselle,  I 
could  not  annoy  you  by  the  least  grief!  Oh, 
teach  a  frontiersman  what  to  say  to  please  a 
woman !  " 

"  Monsieur  de  Tonty,"  panted  Barbe.     "  You 
please  me  too  well,  indeed  !     It  was  necessary  to 
come   to    an     understanding.     You    should    not 
make   me   say,  —  for  I    am   ashamed  to   tell,  - 
how  long  I  have  adored  you  !  " 

As  Tonty's  quick  Italian  blood  mounted  from 
extreme  anguish  to  extreme  rapture,  he  laughed 
with  a  sob. 

Fifty  needlewomen  on  the  Rock  made  in  a 
day  a  gown  of  the  web  of  brocaded  silk.  The 
fortress  was  full  of  preparation  for  evening  fes 
tivity.  Hunters  went  out  and  brought  in  game, 


208  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

and  Indians  carried  up  fish,  new  corn,  and  honey 
from  wild  bee  trees.  All  the  tables  which  the 
dwellings  afforded  were  ranged  in  two  rows  at 
opposite  sides  of  the  place  of  arms,  and  deco 
rated  with  festoons  of  ferns  and  cedar,  and  such 
late  flowers  as  exploring  children  could  find. 

Some  urchins  ascended  the  Rock  with  an  offer 
ing  of  thick-lobed  prickly  cactus  which  grew 
plentifully  in  the  sand.  The  Demoiselle  Belle- 
fontaine  labored  from  place  to  place,  helping  her 
husband  to  make  this  the  most  celebrated  fete 
ever  attempted  in  Fort  St.  Louis. 

As  twilight  settled  —  and  it  slowly  settled  — 
on  the  summit,  roast  venison,  buffalo  steaks,  and 
the  odor  of  innumerable  dishes  scented  the  air. 
Many  candles  pinned  to  the  branches  of  trees 
like  vast  candelabra,  glittered  through  the  dusk. 
Crows  sat  on  the  rocks  below  and  gabbled  of  the 
corn  they  had  that  day  stolen  from  lazy  Indian 
women. 

There  was  no  need  of  chapel  or  bell  in  a 
temple  fortress.  All  the  inhabitants  of  the  Rock 
stood  as  witnesses.  Colin  brought  Barbe  from 
the  dwelling  with  the  greater  part  of  the  web 
of  brocaded  silk  dragged  in  grandeur  behind 
her.  Tonty  kissed  her  hand  and  led  her  before 


A   FETE    ON-   THE  ROCK.  209 

the  priests.     When  the  ceremony  ended  a  salute 
was  fired. 

The  Illinois  town  could  hear  singing  on  the 
Rock  and  see  that  stronghold  glittering  as  if  it 
had  been  carried  by  torches.  Music  of  violin 
and  horn,  laughter,  dancing,  and  gay  voices  in 
repartee  sounded  on  there  through  half  the  hours 
of  the  night. 


V. 

THE   UNDESPAIRING   NORMAN. 

r  I  ^HE  morning  star   yet  shone  and    the  river 

-*•  valley  was  drenched  with  half  frosty  dew, 
and  filled  with  silver  mist  when  the  Abbe  Cave- 
lier  and  his  party  descended  to  their  canoes  and 
set  off  up  the  river.  They  had  made  their  fare 
wells  the  night  before,  but  Tonty  and  Greysolon 
du  Lhut  appeared,  Tonty  accompanying  them 
down  the  descent.  He  came  up  with  a  bound 
before  the  boat  was  off,  thundered  at  Bellefon- 
taine's  door,  and  pulled  that  sleepy  officer  into 
the  open  air,  calling  at  his  ear,  — 

"  What  fellow  is  this  in  the  Abbe's  party  who 
kept  out  of  my  sight  until  he  carried  his  load  but 
now  to  the  canoe?  " 

"  You  must  mean  Teissier,  Monsieur  de  Tonty. 
He  has  lain  ailing  in  the  storehouse." 

"Look,  —  yonder  he  goes." 

Tonty  made  Bellefontaine  lean  over  the  eastern 
earthwork,  but  even  the  boat  was  blurred  upon 
the  river. 


THE    UNDESPAIRING  NORMAN.  2 1  I 

"  That  was  Jolycceur,"  declared  Tonty,  "whom 
Monsieur  de  la  Salle  promised  me  he  would 
never  take  into  his  service  again.  That  fellow 
tried  to  poison  Monsieur  de  la  Salle  at  Fort 
Frontenac." 

"Monsieur  de  Tonty,"  remonstrated  the  sub 
ordinate,  "  I  know  him  well.  He  was  here  a 
month.  He  told  me  he  was  enlisted  at  St. 
Domingo,  while  Monsieur  de  la  Salle  lay  in  a 
fever,  to  replace  men  who  deserted.  He  is  a 
pilot  and  his  name  is  Teissier." 

"  Whatever  his  real  name  may  be  we  had  him 
here  on  the  Rock  before  you  came,  and  he  was 
called  Jolycceur." 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Du  Lhut,  "  his  being  of 
Abbe  Cavelier's  company  argues  that  he  hath 
done  La  Salle  no  late  harm." 

Tonty  thought  about  the  matter  while  light 
grew  in  the  sky,  but  dismissed  it  when  the  priest 
of  Fort  St.  Louis  summoned  his  great  family  to 
matins.  On  such  pleasant  mornings  they  were 
chanted  in  the  open  air. 

The  sun  rose,  drawing  filaments  from  the  mass 
of  vapor  like  a  spinner,  and  every  shred  disap 
peared  while  the  eye  watched  it.  Preparations 
went  forward  for  breakfast,  while  children's  and 


212  THE  STORY  OF   TON  TV. 

birds'  voices  already  chirped  above  and  below 
the  steep  ascent. 

One  urchin  brought  Tonty  a  paper,  saying  it 
was  Monsieur  Joutel's,  the  young  man  who  slept 
in  the  storehouse  and  was  that  morning  gone 
from  the  fort. 

"  Did  he  tell  you  to  give  it  to  me?  "  inquired 
Tonty. 

"Monsieur,"  complained  the  lad,  "he  pinned 
it  in  the  cap  of  my  large  brother  and  left  order 
it  was  to  be  given  to  you  after  two  days.  But 
my  large  brother  hath  this  morning  pinned  it 
in  my  cap,  and  it  may  work  me  harm.  Besides, 
I  desire  to  amuse  myself  by  the  river,  and  if 
I  lost  Monsieur  Joutel's  paper  I  should  get 
whipped." 

"  I  commend  you,"  laughed  Tonty,  as  he  took 
the  packet.  "  You  must  have  no  secrets  from 
your  commandant." 

The  child  leaped,  relieved,  toward  the  gate,  and 
this  heavy  communication  shook  between  the 
iron  and  the  natural  hand.  Tonty  spread  it 
open  on  his  right  gauntlet. 

He  read  a  few  moments  with  darkening  coun 
tenance.  Then  the  busy  people  on  the  Rock 
were  startled  by  a  cry  of  awful  anguish.  Tonty 


THE   UNDESPAIRING  NORMAN. 


213 


rushed  to  the  centre  of  the  esplanade,  flinging 
the  paper  from  him,  and  shouted,  "  Du  Lhut  — 
men  of  Fort  St.  Louis  !  Monsieur  de  la  Salle 
has  been  murdered  in  that  southern  wilderness ! 


We  have  had  one  of  the  assassins  hiding  here  in 
our  storehouse  !     Get  out  the  boats  !  " 

Men    and    women    paused    in    their    various 
business,    and    children,    like    frightened    sheep, 


214  THE   STORY  OF   TONTY. 

gathered  closely  around  their  mothers.  The 
clamorous  cry  which  disaster  wrings  from  ex 
citable  Latins  burst  out  in  every  part  of  the 
fortress.  Du  Lhut  grasped  the  paper  and  read 
it  while  he  limped  after  Tonty. 

With  up-spread  arms  the  Italian  raved  across 
the  open  space,  this  far-reaching  calamity  widen 
ing  like  an  eternally  expanding  circle  around 
him.  His  rage  at  the  assassins  of  La  Salle  — 
among  whom  he  had  himself  placed  a  man 
whom  he  thought  fit  to  be  trusted  —  and  his 
sorrow  broke  bounds  in  such  sobs  as  men  utter. 

"  Oh,  that  I  might  brain  them  with  this  hand ! 
Oh,  wretched  people  on  these  plains !  What 
hope  remains  to  us?  What  will  become  of  all 
these  families,  whose  resource  he  was,  whose 
sole  consolation !  It  is  despair  for  us !  Thou 
wert  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  this  age,  —  so 
useful  to  France  by  thy  great  discoveries,  so 
strong  in  thy  virtues,  so  respected,  so  cherished 
by  people  even  the  most  barbarous.  That  such 
a  man  should  be  massacred  by  wretches,  and 
the  earth  did  not  engulf  them  or  the  lightning 

strike  them  dead  !  "  1 

^ 

1  Translated  from  Tonty's  lament  over  La  Salle  in  "  Dernieres 
Decouvertes  dans  L'Amerique  Septentrional." 


THE    UNDESPAIRING  NORMAN.  215 

* 

Tonty's  blood  boiled  in  his  face. 

"Why  do  you  all  stand  here  like  rocks  in 
stead  of  getting  out  the  boats?  Get  out  the 
boats  !  They  stripped  my  master ;  they  left  his 
naked  body  to  wolves  and  crows  on  Trinity 
River.  Get  ready  the  canoes.  I  will  hunt 
those  assassins,  down  to  the  last  man,  through 
every  forest  on  this  continent !  ' 

"  You  did  not   finish    this  relation," 1  shouted 

1  Joutel's  Journal  gives  a  long  and  exact  account  of  La  Salle's 
assassination  and  the  fate  of  all  who  were  concerned  in  it.  The 
murder,  by  the  conspirators,  of  his  nephew  Moranget,  his  servant 
Saget,  and  his  Indian  hunter  Nika  —  which  preceded  and  led 
to  his  death  —  is  not  mentioned  in  this  romance. 

To  this  day  it  is  not  certainly  known  what  became  of  La  Salle's 
body.  Father  Anastase  Douay,  the  Recollect  priest  who  wit 
nessed  his  death,  told  Joutel  at  the  time  that  the  conspirators 
stripped  it  and  threw  it  in  the  bushes.  But  afterward  he  de 
clared  La  Salle  lived  an  hour,  and  he  himself  confessed  the 
dying  man,  buried  him  when  dead,  and  planted  a  cross  on  his 
grave.  So  excellent  a  historian  as  Garneau  gives  credit  to  this 
story. 

In  reality  the  Abbe  Cavelier  and  his  party  treated  Tonty  with 
greater  cruelty  than  the  romancer  describes.  They  lived  over 
winter  on  his  hospitality,  departed  loaded  with  his  favors,  and 
told  him  not  a  word  of  the  tragedy. 

Joutel's  account  of  it,  much  condensed  from  the  old  English 
translation,  reads  thus  :  — 

"  The  conspirators  hearing  the  shot  (fired  by  La  Salle  to  attract 
their  attention)  concluded  it  was  Monsieur  de  la  Sale  who  was  come  to 
seek  them.  They  made  ready  their  arms  and  Duhaut  passed  the  river 


2l6  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

Du  Lhut  at  his  ear.  "  Can  you  get  revenge 
on  dead  men?  The  men  who  actually  put 
their  hands  in  the  blood  of  La  Salle  are  all 
dead.  Those  who  killed  not  each  other  the 
Indians  killed." 

with  Larcheveque.  The  first  of  them  spying  Monsieur  de  la  Sale  at 
a  Distance,  as  he  was  coming  towards  them,  advanced  and  hid  himself 
among  the  high  weeds,  to  wait  his  passing  by,  so  that  Monsieur  de  la 
Sale  suspected  nothing,  and  having  not  so  much  as  charged  his  Piece 
again,  saw  the  aforesaid  Larcheveque  at  a  good  distance  from  him,  and 
immediately  asked  for  his  nephew  Moranget,  to  which  Larcheveque 
answered,  That  he  was  along  the  river.  At  the  same  time  the  Traitor 
Duhaut  fired  his  Piece  and  shot  Monsieur  de  la  Sale  thro'  the  head,  so 
that  he  dropped  down  dead  on  the  Spot,  without  speaking  one  word. 

"  Father  Anastase,  who  was  then  by  his  side,  stood  stock  still  in  a 
Fright,  expecting  the  same  fate,  .  .  .  but  the  murderer  Duhaut  put 
him  out  of  that  Dread,  bidding  him  not  to  fear,  for  no  hurt  was  intended 
him ;  that  it  was  Dispair  that  had  prevailed  with  them  to  do  what  he 
saw.  .  .  . 

"  The  shot  which  had  killed  Monsieur  de  la  Sale  was  a  signal  .  .  . 
for  the  assassins  to  draw  near.  They  all  repaired  to  the  place  where 
the  wretched  corpse  lay,  which  they  barbarously  stripped  to  the  shirt, 
and  vented  their  malice  in  opprobrious  language.  The  surgeon  Liotot 
said  several  times  in  scorn  and  derision,  There  thou  liest,  Great  Bassa, 
there  thou  liest.  In  conclusion  they  dragged  it  naked  among  the  bushes 
and  left  it  exposed  to  the  ravenous  wild  Beasts. 

"  When  they  came  to  our  camp  .  .  .  Monsieur  Cavelier  the  priest 
could  not  forbear  telling  them  that  if  they  would  do  the  same  by  him  he 
would  forgive  them  his"  (La  Salle's)  "murder.  .  .  .  They  answered 
they  had  Nothing  to  say  to  him. 

..."  We  were  all  obliged  to  stifle  our  Resentment  that  it  might  not 
appear,  for  our  Lives  depended  upon  it.  ...  We  dissembled  so  well 
that  they  were  not  suspicious  of  us,  and  that  Temptation  we  were  under 
of  making  them  away  in  revenge  for  those  they  had  murdered,  would 
have  easily  prevailed  and  been  put  in  execution,  had  not  Monsieur 


THE    UNDESPAIRING  NORMAN.  2  I/ 

Tonty  turned  with  a  furious  push  at  Du  Lhut 
which  sent  him  staggering  backward. 

"  Is  Jolycceur  dead?  I  will  run  down  this 
forgiving  priest  of  a  brother  of  Monsieur  de  la 
Salle's,  and  the  assassin  he  harbored  here  under 
his  protection  he  shall  give  up  to  justice !  " 

"  Thou  mad-blooded  loyal-hearted  Italian  !  " 
exclaimed  Du  Lhut,  dragging  him  out  of  the 
throng  and  holding  him  against  a  tree,  "  dost 
thou  think  nobody  can  feel  this  wrong  except 
thee?  I  would  go  with  thee  anywhere  if  it 
could  be  revenged.  But  hearken  to  me,  Henri 
de  Tonty;  if  you  go  after  the  Abbe  it  will 
appear  that  you  wish  to  strip  him  of  the  goods 
he  bore  away." 

"  He  brought  an  order  from  Monsieur  de  la 
Salle,"  retorted  Tonty.  "  On  that  order  I  would 
give  him  the  last  skin  in  the  storehouse.  What 
I  will  strip  him  of  is  the  wretch  he  carries  in 
his  forgiving  bosom !  " 

"  And  you  will  put  a  scandal  upon  this  young 

Cavelier,  the  Priest,  always  positively  opposed  it,  alleging  that  we  ought 
to  leave  vengeance  to  God." 

The  Recollet  priest,  who  had  seen  La  Salle's  death,  answered 
no  questions  at  Fort  St.  Louis.  Teissier,  one  of  the  conspira 
tors,  had  obtained  the  Abbe's  pardon.  The  others  could  truly 
say  La  Salle  was  well  when  they  last  saw  him. 


2l8  THE   STORY  OF   TONTY. 

girl  your  bride,  who  has  this  sorrow  also  to 
bear.  Are  you  determined  to  denounce  her 
uncle  and  her  brother  before  this  fortress  as 
unworthy  to  be  the  kinsmen  of  La  Salle?  She 
has  now  no  consolation  left  except  in  you. 
Will  you  burn  the  wound  of  her  sorrow  with 
the  brand  of  shame?" 

Tonty  leaned  against  the  tree,  pallor  suc 
ceeding  the  pulsing  of  blood  in  his  face.  He 
looked  at  Du  Lhut  with  piteous  black  eyes, 
like  a  stag  brought  down  in  full  career. 

"  The  Abbe  Cavelier,"  Bellefontaine  was  whis 
pering  to  one  of  the  immigrants,  "  carried  from 
this  fortress  above  four  thousand  livres  worth 
of  furs,  besides  other  goods !  " 

"  And  left  mademoiselle  married  without  for 
tune,"  muttered  back  the  other.  "  He  did  well 
for  himself  by  concealing  the  death  of  Sieur 
de  la  Salle." 

Men  and  women  looked  mournfully  at  each 
other  as  Tonty  walked  across  the  fort  and  shut 
himself  in  his  house.  They  wondered  at  hear 
ing  no  crying  within  it  such  as  a  woman  might 
utter  upon  the  first  shock  of  her  grief.  With 
La  Salle's  own  instinct  Barbe  locked  herself 
within  her  room.  It  was  not  -  known  to  the 


THE    UNDESPAIRING  NORMAN.  219 

people  of  Fort  St.  Louis,  it  was  not  known 
even  to  Tonty,  how  she  lay  on  the  floor  with 
her  teeth  set  and  faced  this  fact. 

Tonty  sat  in  his  door  overlooking  the  cliff  all 
day. 

Clouds  sailed  over  the  Rock.  The  lingering 
robins  quarrelled  with  crows.  That  glittering 
pinnacled  cliff  across  the  ravine  shone  like  white 
castle  turrets.  Smoke  went  up  from  the  lodges 
on  the  plains  as  it  had  done  during  the  six  months 
La  Salle's  bones  were  bleaching  on  Trinity 
River;  but  now  a  whisper  like  the  whisper 
of  wind  in  September  corn-leaves  was  rushing 
from  lodge  to  lodge.  Tonty  heard  tribe  after 
tribe  take  up  the  lament  for  the  dead. 

Not  only  was  it  a  lament  for  La  Salle ;  but  it 
was  also  for  their  own  homes.  He  and  Tonty 
had  brought  them  back  from  exile,  had  banded 
them  for  strength  and  helped  them  ward  off  the 
Iroquois.  His  unstinted  success  meant  their 
greatest  prosperity.  The  undespairing  Norman's 
death  foreshadowed  theirs,  with  all  that  silence 
and  desolation  which  must  fall  on  the  Rock  of 
St.  Louis  before  another  civilization  possessed  it. 

Night  came,  and  the  leaves  sifted  down  in  its 
light  breeze  as  if  only  half  inclined  to  their 


22O  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

descent.  The  children  had  been  quieted  all  day. 
To  them  the  revelry  of  the  night  before  seemed 
a  far  remote  occasion,  so  instantly  are  joy  and 
trouble  set  asunder. 

The  rich  valley  of  the  Illinois  grew  dimmer 
and  dimmer  under  the  starlight.  Tonty  could 
no  longer  see  the  river's  brown  surface,  but  he 
could  distinguish  the  little  trail  of  foam  down  its 
centre  churned  by  rapids  above.  Twisted  pines, 
which  had  tangled  their  roots  in  everlasting  rock, 
hung  below  him,  children  of  the  air.  Some  man 
of  the  garrison  approached  the  windlass  and  let 
down  the  bucket  with  creak  and  rattle.  He 
waited  with  the  ear  of  custom  for  its  clanking 
cry  as  it  plunged,  its  gurgle  and  struggle  in 
the  water,  and  the  many  splashes  with  which  it 
ascended. 

His  face  showed  as  a  pale  spot  in  the  dusk 
when  he  rose  from  the  doorstep  and  came  into 
the  room  to  light  a  candle.  Barbe  must  be 
brought  out  from  her  silent  ordeal  and  comforted 
and  fed. 

Tonty  set  his  lighted  candle  on  a  table  and 
considered  how  he  should  approach  her  door. 
The  furniture  of  the  room  had  been  hastily 
carried  in  that  morning  from  its  uses  in  the  fete. 


THE    UNDESPAIRING  NORMAN.  221 

The  apartment  was  a  rude  frontier  drawing- 
room,  having  furs,  deer  antlers,  and  shining 
canoe  paddles  for  its  ornaments. 

While  Tonty  hesitated,  the  door  on  the  for 
tress  side  opened,  and  La  Salle  stepped  into  the 
room. 


Tonty's  voice  died  in  his  throat.  The  joy  and 
terror  of  this  sight  held  him  without  power  to 
move. 

It  was  La  Salle ;  a  mere  shred  of  his  former 
person,  girt  like  some  skeleton  apostle  with  a 
buffalo  hide  which  left  his  arm  bones  naked  as 
well  as  his  journey  roughened  feet.  Beard  had 


222  THE  STORY  OF  TONTY. 

started  through  his  pallid  skin,  and  this  and  his 
wild  hair  the  wilderness  had  dressed  with  dead 
leaves.  A  piece  of  buffalo  leather  banded  his 
forehead  like  a  coarse  crown,  yet  blood  had 
escaped  its  pressure,  for  a  dried  track  showed 
darkly  down  the  side  of  his  neck.  Tonty  gave 
no  thought  to  the  manitou  of  a  waterfall  from 
whose  shrine  La  Salle  had  probably  stripped 
that  Indian  offering  of  a  buffalo  robe.  It  did  not 
seem  to  him  incredible  that  Robert  Cavelier 
should  survive  what  other  men  called  a  death 
wound,  and  naked,  bleeding,  and  starving,  should 
make  his  way  for  six  months  through  jungles  of 
forest,  to  his  friend. 

Hoarse  and  strong  from  the  depths  of  his 
breast  Tonty  brought  out  the  cry,  - 

"  O  my  master,  my  master !  " 

"  Tonty,"  spoke  La  Salle,  standing  still,  with 
the  rapture  of  achievement  in  his  eyes,  "  I  have 
found  the  lost  river'!  " 

He  moved  across  the  room  and  went  out  of 
the  cliff  door.  His  gaunt  limbs  and  shaggy  robe 
were  seen  one  instant  against  the  palisades,  as  if 
his  eye  were  passing  that  starlit  valley  in  review, 
the  picture  in  miniature  of  the  great  west.  He 
was  gone  while  Tonty  looked  at  him. 


THE    UNDESPAIRING  NORMAN.  22$ 

The  whisper  of  water  at  the  base  of  the  rock, 
and  of  the  sea's  sweet  song  in  pines,  took  the 
place  of  the  voice  which  had  spoken. 

A  lad  began  to  carol  within  the  fortress,  but 
hushed  himself  with  sudden  remembrance.  That 
brooding  body  of  darkness,  which  so  overlies  us 
all  that  its  daily  removal  by  sunlight  is  a  con 
tinued  miracle,  pressed  around  this  silent  room 
resisted  only  by  one  feeble  candle.  And  Tonty 
stood  motionless  in  the  room,  blanched  and 
exalted  by  what  he  had  seen. 

Barbe's  opening  her  chamber  door  startled  him 
and  set  in  motion  the  arrested  machinery  of  life. 

"What  has  been  here,  monsieur?"  she  asked 
under  her  breath. 

Tonty,  without  replying,  moved  to  receive  her, 
crushing  under  his  foot  a  beech-nut  which  one  of 
the  children  of  the  fortress  had  dropped  upon 
the  floor.  Barbe's  arms  girded  his  great  chest. 

"  Oh,  monsieur,"  she  said  with  a  sob,  "  I  thought 
I  heard  a  voice  in  this  room,  and  I  know  I  would 
myself  break  through  death  to  come  back  to 
you  !  " 


VI. 

TO-DAY. 

TT  is  recorded  that  the  Abbe  Cavelier  and  his 
*•  party  arrived  safely  in  France,  and  that  he 
then  concealed  the  death  of  La  Salle  for  awhile 
that  he  might  get  possession  of  property  which 
would  have  been  seized  by  La  Salle's  creditors. 
He  died  "  rich  and  very  old  "  says  the  historian,1 
though  he  was  unsuccessful  in  a  petition  which 
he  made  with  his  nephew  to  the  king,  to  have  all 
the  explorer's  seigniorial  propriety  in  America 
put  in  his  possession.  Like  Father  Hennepin  — 
who  returned  to  France  and  wrote  his  entertain 
ing  book  to  prove  himself  a  greater  man  than  La 
Salle  —  the  Abbe  Cavelier  was  skilful  in  turning 
loss  to  profit. 

It  is  also  recorded  that  Henri  de  Tonty,  at  his 
own  expense,  made  a  long  search  with  men, 
canoes,  and  provisions,  for  La  Salle's  Texan  col 
ony  —  left  by  the  king  to  perish  at  the  hands  of 

1    Parkman. 


TO-DA  Y. 


225 


Indians ;  that  he  was  deserted  by  every  follower 
except  his  Indian  and  one  Frenchman,  and 
nearly  died  in  swamps  and  canebrakes  before  he 
again  reached  the  fort  on  the  Illinois. 

To-day  you  may  climb  the  Rock  of  St.  Louis,  — 
called  now  Starved  Rock  from  the  last  stand 
which  the  Illinois  made  as  a  tribe  on  that  fortress, 
a  hundred  years  ago,  when  the  Iroquois  sur 
rounded  and  starved  them,  —  and  you  may  look 
over  the  valley  from  which  Tonty  heard  the 
death  lament  arise. 

A  later  civilization  has  cleared  it  of  Indian 
lodges  and  set  it  with  villages  and  homesteads. 
A  low  ridge  of  the  old  earthwork  yet  remains  on 
the  east  verge.  Behind  the  Rock,  slopes  of  milk- 
white  sand  still  stretch  toward  a  shallow  ravine. 
Beyond  that  stands  a  farmhouse  full  of  the  relics 
of  French  days.  The  iron-handed  commandant 
of  the  Rock  has  left  some  hint  of  his  strong  spirit 
thereabouts,  for  even  the  farmer's  boy  will  speak 
his  name  with  the  respect  boys  have  for  heroic 
men. 

Crosses,  beads,  old  iron  implements,  and  count 
less  remains  of  La  Salle's  time,  turn  up  every 
where  in  the  valley  soil. 

15 


226  THE  STORY  OF   TONTY. 

Ferns  spring,  lush  and  vivid,  from  the  lichened 
lips  of  that  great  sandstone  body.  The  stunted 
cedars  lean  over  its  edge  still  singing  the  music 
of  the  sea.  Sunshine  and  shade  and  nearness  to 
the  sky  are  yet  there.  You  see  depressions  in 
the  soil  like  grass-healed  wounds,  made  by  the 
tearing  out  of  huge  trees ;  but  local  tradition  tells 
you  these  are  the  remains  of  pits  dug  down  to  the 
rock  by  Frenchmen  searching  for  Tonty's  money. 
At  the  same  time,  local  tradition  is  positive  that 
Tonty  came  back,  poor,  to  the  Rock  to  die,  in  1718. 

Death  had  stripped  him  of  every  tie.  He  had 
helped  to  build  that  city  near  the  Mississippi's 
mouth  which  was  La  Salle's  object,  and  had  also 
helped  found  Mobile.  The  great  west  owes  more 
to  him  than  to  any  other  man  who  labored  to 
open  it  to  the  world.  Yet  historians  say  the  date 
of  his  death  is  unknown,  and  tradition  around  the 
Rock  says  he  crept  up  the  stony  path  an  old  and 
broken  man,  helped  by  his  Indian  and  a  priest, 
died  gazing  from  its  summit,  and  was  buried  at 
its  west  side.  The  tribes,  while  they  held  the 
land,  continued  to  cover  his  grave  with  wild 
roses.  But  men  may  tread  over  him  now,  for  he 
lies  lost  in  the  earth  as  La  Salle  was  lost  in  the 
wilderness  of  the  south. 


TO-DA  Y. 


227 


No  justice  ever  was  done  to  this  man  who  gave 
to  his  friends  with  both  hand  of  flesh  and  hand 
of  iron,  caring  nothing  for  recompense  ;  and 
whom  historians,  priests,  tradition,  savages,  and 
his  own  deeds  unite  in  praising.  But  as  long  as 
the  friendship  of  man  for  man  is  beautiful,  as 
long  as  the  multitude  with  one  impulse  lift  above 
themselves  those  men  who  best  express  the  race, 
Henri  de  Tonty's  memory  must  stand  like  the 
Rock  of  St.  Louis.1 

1  "In  1690  the  proprietorship  of  Fort  St.  Louis  was  granted 
to  Tonty  jointly  with  La  Forest.  ...  In  1702  the  governor  of 
Canada,  claiming  that  the  charter  of  the  fort  had  been  violated, 
decided  to  discontinue  it.  Although  thus  officially  abandoned 
it  seems  to  have  been  occupied  as  a  trading  post  until  1718. 
Deprived  of  his  command  and  property,  Tonty  engaged  with  Le 
Moyne  d'Iberville  in  various  successful  expeditions."  — John 
Moses'  History  of  Illinois. 


THE   END. 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CKNTS 

OVERDUE. 


MJ\R 

G 

1940 

-^- 

REC'D 


LD21-100»i-7,'39(402s) 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


